There Is A France Under My Bed
by HimekoUchia
Summary: Germany is awoken in the middle of the night by a horrifying sound coming from under his bed. "Hon hon hon..." Why the heck is France hiding under his bed? France-centric. Rated T for language, randomness and, well, France.
1. There Is A France Under My Bed

**There is a France Under My Bed.**

**I should be working on my Naruto fics (and I am!) or my study notes, but this was stuck in my head so I wrote it. I got this idea whilst in Chinese class with PaperDream (a mega talented writer on this site).**  
**This story is set it modern time.**  
**T rated for France's perversion. This trait will be extremely parodied and exaggerate XD.**  
**Imagine them with their accents for full effect!  
No pairings, but little hints of GerIt, Sufin, DenNor, PoLeit and FrUK. At least, I think so.**  
**I don't own Hetalia.**  
**Not to be taken seriously. At all.**

* * *

"Hon hon hon hon! Hon hon hon..."

Germany was having another one of his France nightmares. He shivered, writhing in his bed.  
France was trying to molest him again. And he was succeeding too.  
"Hon hon hon! Germany, I didn't know you could be such a dirty person!" laughed the Frenchman's voice. He leaned in, smirking like the pervert he was, and pressed his lips against the German's.

"NEIN!" screamed Germany, suddenly snapping out of his dream. Horrible. He had never been so scared in his whole life. Not even when inflation was so high in his country that he couldn't even buy a potato with a wheelbarrow of Deutschmarks!

It took him a minute to realize that it had all been a nightmare. He sighed in relief at seeing his good ol' room in the moonlight. The boring walls. The wooden door. His comfy bed. Italy.  
He face palmed.  
"What the heck?" he seethed. "How did he get in again? I double locked my door!"

He watched Italy sleep for a moment. No matter how creepy and France like this was, it soothed him to see the smaller man snoring peacefully.  
After a few more seconds, he sighed, lied back down in bed and shut his eyes.

"Hon hon hon hon..."

He snapped his eyes open. Was that his imagination? Or was it...

"Hon hon hon hon..."

He widened his eyes in horror. The sound was coming from... under... his bed.  
Turning his head slightly to the side, he noticed that there was a glow coming from under his mattress.  
He jumped up onto his bed.  
"HOLY FÜHRER! My bed is possessed by an evil French spirit!" he shouted.  
Italy snorted and turned over. How could he still be sleeping? He had to warn his ally...  
He gave the man a firm kick in the side.  
"OW!" cried the Italian. "Wha... Germany? Why are you standing on the bed?"

"Italy... Get up." he ordered. Thankfully, the man complied immediately.  
"G-Germany? What's going on? You're scaring me..." he whined. Germany clapped his hand over the man's mouth. He put a finger to his lips and motioned for him to shut up.

The two men waited, standing on the bed in their underpants. A few minutes passed. And then...  
"Hon hon hon! How so very naughty of you Liliana!" came a murmur from under the bed.

Germany frowned and jumped onto the floor. He reached under the bed and dragged out France, who was reading what looked like porn with a flashlight.  
"I knew it! France! What the heck are you doing here?" he snarled, shaking the blond man like a rag doll. The French started groaning in pain.  
"Ah! Germany!" screamed France, before composing himself. "Bonjour, Germany! How did you figure out that I was hiding there? Ah! Bonjour, Italy!"  
"Ciao, big brother France!"  
Germany huffed and did the best German glare he could muster.

"What do you mean, how did I find out? You and your sick perverted laugh were echoing through the room!"  
"Ah..." hummed France. "I apologies. I just get so wrapped up when reading... romance novels. Which, by the way, I found under your bed! What is your explanation for this, ein, Germany?"  
Germany's face turned as red as a Spanish tomato.  
"That... That..." he trailed off, mortified.

"Ooh? Germany has porn? I want to see it! I want to see it!" laughed Italy, jumping off of the bed towards the other two men. Germany gulped and grabbed his arm before he could take the book.  
"You will do no such thing!" he snapped, taking the porn out of France's hands, chucking it back into the box and shoving the box under his bed with his foot.  
"Aw! I was getting to the good part too! They were going to do a sixty-..."  
"No way! These... These were given to me by Finland for Christmas, back during World War 2! I would never buy something this revolting! I'm no pervert!" hollered Germany, letting go of France and Italy.

France looked deep in thought for a moment.  
"Ah, yes! I remember that time! Hon hon, Finland, how sneaky of you. I always knew you were secretly that type of person..." he smirked.  
Suddenly, Germany grabbed the front of his shirt again.  
"FRANCE! Don't try to distract me! How did you get in? What the heck were you doing under my bed? And... what the hell happened to you? You look like Scheiße..."

And, for the first time, France really did look like shit. He had crusty red lines of dried blood on his cheek, a black eye, a bruise on his forehead, a cut lip and a bloody gauze on his arm among other things...  
However, no matter how horrible a state he was in, the Frenchman just ruffled his blond hair, acting like he was a god no matter what.  
"Moi? I came in through the back, of course! I used to spy on you so I know where you keep the emergency key!" laughed the Frenchman.  
"Si! Me too! But I actually made a copy of that key so that I can get in whenever I want to see Germany!" added Italy.  
"You... You did what?" gasped Germany, grabbing onto his own head. "Why didn't I ever think of that?"

The man sat on his bed, groaning in frustration.  
"Well, moving on..." he suddenly stood up and shouted into France's face again. "You! Why were you hiding under my bed? Wasn't trespassing into mein house enough? Did you have to invade my private space too?"  
"But... But... I had nowhere else to go! And you let Italy sleep in the same bed as you!" grumbled France, crossing his arms.  
"It's because we're best friends! Germany loves it when I sleep with him! Don't you, Germany? Germany, don't you?" begged the Italian.  
"Nein! I never let you into my house in the first place! And France! Answer the damn question!"

"Well, you see..." France bit his lip and dusted off his clothing. For some reason, he wasn't wearing his usual colorful coat. He was wearing what looked like a bland coat and cheap pants. Something was definitely going on. "I'm hiding... And nobody is suicidal enough to look under Germany's bed, so this was a perfect place! Plus you're house is stocked with food and porn! There is no better hiding spot!"  
Germany straightened up.  
"Hiding? From who?" he asked.

Suddenly, the floor started vibrating slightly. The three men froze and glanced out of the window.  
"Germany? What's happening?" cried Italy.  
In the distance, many faint, yellow lights glowed like tiny stars. They were slowly getting closer. A soft hum of voices also started to grow louder and louder every passing minute.  
A mob?  
"FRANCE! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?" shouted Germany, taking a gun out from under his pillow and pointing it threateningly at the French.  
"Ah!" screamed France. "Fine! I'll tell you everything!"

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**I tried to make it obvious, but in case you didn't get it (or if you want to practice some language):**  
**Nein – German for 'no'**  
**Holy Fuhrer – Germany says it in the anime.**  
**Bonjour – 'hello' in French**  
**Ciao – 'hello' in Italian**  
**Scheiße – 'Shit' in German**  
**Moi – 'me' in French**  
**Si – 'yes' in Italian, Spanish and French**  
**mein – 'my' in German**

**So in the next chapters, you'll find out what happened to France. Germany and Italy will only be in the first and last chapter.**  
**Hope you liked it!**  
**Peace, love and damn it's 1 am,**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (lover of languages thanks to Hetalia)**


	2. There Are Boobs In Russia's House

**Thanks for the reviews! I've never gotten this many reviews for the first chapter of a story before!  
Since I wrote most of this story over the weekend, you'll be getting frequent updates unless I suddenly hit a writer's block for the ending.  
Remember, read with the accents! Or it'll just be weird.  
Rated T for a reason. France is a perv. But he's my country, so I still love him to bits.  
Don't own Hetalia. Unfortunately.  
Oh, forgot to mention, this story is for you, PaperDream! Thanks for being awesome. And for not drowning me in swim safety. Especially after I drowned you.  
So... How it all began...**

* * *

"Ah!" screamed France. "Fine! I'll tell you everything!"

* * *

France wandered around Russia's house, waiting for the tall nation to return from the vodka store so that they could start their one-on-one meeting. Stupid bosses nowadays wanted nations to spend some time with other countries. That was why he was in Russia's house. To get to know him a little better. However, France really wasn't sure if he wanted to spend any time whatsoever with that lunatic. What a waste of time that he could spend seducing women.  
Well, at least Russia was good looking! It made meetings like this so much easier to stand...

"Ah... Russia's intimidation gives him quite a dose of... sex appeal. But I don't understand why he has to be so creepy all the time... Huh?"  
France stopped walking when he heard a weird, springy noise. Was it a gym ball? Or maybe someone was hitting balloons?

Suddenly, from around the corner, a huge pair of tits greeted him in the face.  
"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" exclaimed Ukraine. "I was just looking for my brother! I just managed to escape from my mean boss and I wanted to see him! Is he here?"  
France, clearing his throat, put on his most seductive smirk.  
"No! But I am!" he took a step closer to the woman. "Long time no see, Ukraine! My... haven't you gotten absolutely gorgeous!"

Ukraine blushed and her chest bounced loudly. France's fingers twitched.  
"Why, how sweet of you France! Now, if you don't mind, I will look for Russia now..."  
France had an inner dilemma.  
Big Boobs. Must not touch. Huge boobs! Russia's sister...  
"Ah, whatever, at least I'll die happy!"

Then he grabbed Ukraine's gigantic breasts and jiggled them around.  
Russia also happened to pick that moment to walk into the room. His giant bag of booze clunked to the floor.  
"... France? Why are your hands on my big sister's colossal knockers?" he said sweetly, murder already seeping out of his body.  
France gasped in horror and Ukraine jumped back, screaming.  
"You pervert!" she cried.  
"Russia! I can explain! I... I... I couldn't resist!" he tried.

Russia smiled.  
"Wrong answer."

The tall man grabbed a bloody faucet pipe out of nowhere and starting walking towards France, mumbling a string of demonic sounds in another language.  
"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol..."  
France nearly pissed himself.  
"Ah! Russia..." _I've never seen him be so scary! So this is what the Baltics are so scared of..._  
Without thinking twice, the Frenchman turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He just realized that he was far, far, far too beautiful and young and perfect to die!

He sprinted right out of Russia's house and crashed into Belarus.  
"France! What are you doing in my big brother's house?" she asked, eyes narrowing sharply. She suddenly resembled an angry Afghan hound, with her long, smooth hair. France made another stupid mistake.  
"I got Russia mad big time so I'm going to run awaaaaay!" he cried.  
In an instant, the girl's hand closed around his arm and squeezed until he felt as if his bones were going to crack.  
"WHAT? What did you do to my big brother? I'll get you..." she smirked evilly and slapped him across the face. Her long nails scratched his skin, leaving bloody red marks on his face.  
France gasped and, yanking with all his strength, he managed to free his arm. Just in time, because Russia just came through the front door and swung his pipe at him, hitting him on the shoulder. France avoided most of the impact by flinching back, but then got punched in the eye by Ukraine.  
Kind, sweet, caring Ukraine.  
So... this was what it meant to push someone's limit. Maybe groping her wasn't the best idea. France had really, really underestimated her...  
"Oh non! Oh non!" muttered France under his breath, turning around and running again, especially since he saw Belarus draw out a knife from her dress's belt.

Thankfully for him, having the three murderous siblings hot on his trail was the motivation he needed to hot wire a car and drive all the way to Lithuania. He wasn't too sure how he did it, but he was a country after all. He didn't have to show a passport or anything.  
He cut the engine when he saw another nation.  
"Lithuania! You have to get me get a jet or a race car or anything! I need to get to Switzerland!" he shouted.  
The oldest of the Baltics jumped a foot in the air before turning around.  
"France! You scared me! What are you doing here? And I do not think that going into Switzerland is the best idea..." he said.  
"Nobody would dare trespass into Switzerland! I will have to make a deal with him or beg! I'm a little desperate! I'm running from Russia! You understand me! Will you help me?" cried the French.

Lithuania cringed.  
"I... I don't know... I could get into serious trouble for helping you if it's Mr. Russia that's mad... What did you do?" he asked.  
"I was hypnotized by Ukraine's shapely body. And I touched her tits. And Russia got pissed! And Belarus then got pissed as well..." explained France quickly.  
Suddenly, Lithuania didn't look so scared. He looked quite mad. France's heart sank.  
"You... You infuriated Miss Belarus?" gasped the Baltic.  
"Euh..."  
"I can't help you! If I do, Miss Belarus will hate me." exclaimed Lithuania.  
"Lithuania... I'm sorry to say this but... She already hates you!" admitted France.

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. Lithuania went into his house and came back out a few seconds later with a pistol.  
"I'm sorry France. I don't really want to do this but... I'm going to side with Belarus. I'll give you ten seconds head start. Start driving. Quick."  
Then he aimed the gun at France.

Cursing in French, the man jumped into his stolen car and stepped on the gas, driving off faster than any country's speed limit would permit. Just in time, because he could see a long, black minivan turning around the curb in his rear-view mirror.  
"Crap..." he muttered when he saw Lithuania getting into the van as well.

He went even faster, trying to throw off Russia, who was driving as well as any angry, slightly drunk man would.  
France drove through Latvia and Estonia, noticing in horror that they were forced to get into the scary black van.  
"Oh no... Why? Why?" wept France, pushing down even harder on the acceleration. He wove through traffic, getting honked by a couple hundred people.

After braving a bit more of the Russian territory and entering the border of Finland, he realized that he had managed to lose his stalkers. For the moment at least.  
"Woohoo! I am the most beautiful in the world! That is why no god would want to let me die!" cheered the nation, leaving his car and running to the Nordic's house, hoping that Finland - since the younger nation didn't have a particularly pleasant history with Russia - would want to help him get out of his sticky situation.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**'Oh non!' - Oh no! (no duh)**  
**Euh... - Um...**

**So France is in deep shit. And it only gets worse, my dear readers :) (kolkolkolkol...)**  
**Hope you liked it! Since Ukraine is related to Russia and Belarus, I presume that she is terrifying if furious (which happens once every gazillion years).**  
**Lala, see you soon!**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (My country's politics are the biggest joke ever. And the population too. We're doomed. 2012 will strike us first. This fanfic is only the beginning of the downfall of France heh.)**


	3. There Is Love In The Northern Air

**Hiya! Thanks for the reviews guys! Glad you're enjoying my crazy ass story.**  
**To TheSkySpiritsTalentShow : I know right? He does act like Barney (though Austria is the 'incredibly photogenic guy' of the group)... France's journey is going legen... wait for it... DARY!  
Actually, it gets worse and shittier for poor France. I think that I'm enjoying abusing this poor country far too much. Je t'aime quand même, mon cher pays (I still love you my dear country). I think that I am making France overly... French in this story. Ah well... good ol' France.  
I don't own Hetalia. Just my shounen-ai filled head and love for shippings. There is no romance in the story, but I like hinting :)  
Remember: Accents! Is it sad that I can do all the accents?**

* * *

After braving a bit more of the Russian territory and entering the border of Finland, he realized that he had managed to lose his stalkers. For the moment at least.  
"Woohoo! I am the most beautiful in the world! That is why no god would want to let me die!" cheered the nation, leaving his car and running to the Nordic's house, hoping that Finland - since the younger nation didn't have a particularly pleasant history with Russia - would want to help him get out of his sticky situation.

* * *

"Finland! Finland! It's France! Please let me in! It's an emergency!" he shouted, pounding on the large door. Thank goodness he knew where everyone lived (after years of research/stalking).

A moment later, the Finnish man opened the door.  
"Oh, France! Do come in! Sweden and Sealand were just over for a visit!"  
"Don't mind if I do, Finland! I can't stay long though, I don't have much time..." he nodded.

Finland shut the door and cocked his head to the side.  
"What's the matter?" he asked kindly.  
France was always amazed at how sweet and innocent this man seemed. To think that he managed to fight against Russia...  
"Eh... I made Russia and his sisters mad so they are chasing me down! And the Baltic Trio joined them as well!"  
Finland looked taken aback.  
"Oh, how unlucky! My, I wouldn't want to be targeted like that... I'll see what I can do to help, ya?"

France nearly started crying of joy.  
"Oh thank you so much!" he exclaimed, hugging Finland close to his body and not letting go. "Is there anything... _anything_ I can... _do_ for you in return?" he purred into the other man's ear. "Like your butt?"  
Finland chuckled nervously and tried to pry France's arms from around his waist.  
"Um... No thank you France... Can you let go of me please?"  
"Oh no." the French tightened his grip. "I'm so grateful for all you are doing for me. Please, let me thank you the best way I know how. With love making. I know that you want to. Hon hon... You are a hidden little pervert after all."

That was it for Finland. He gasped and shoved France back, making the man stumble.  
"I am no such thing! France, if you continue acting in such a fashion, you will never get sympathy!" scolded Finland.  
All that escaping, however, made France a little bit horny (or was he just always like that?).  
"Oh, come on Finland!" he smirked and grabbed the Finnish man by the waist again, trying to grind into him. Finland's eyes widened in fear and he pushed his molester away, but lost his footing and ended up pulling France to the ground on top of him.  
"Hon hon hon! What did I say, Finland?"

The Nordic clenched his teeth.  
"France. Get. Off. Now." he seethed.  
France had never seen Finland angry before. He took this as the sign to back off. However...

"Papa! Why is that man lying on top of Finland?" suddenly shouted a young, innocent voice, who was probably traumatized for life. A terrified whine was heard.  
"Sweden! Sealand! Hanatamago!" gasped Finland, looking embarrassed and scared at the same time. "This is not what it looks like! I swear!"

Sweden glanced from Finland to France, then back to Finland.  
"I b'lieve yah F'nland." deadpanned the man, grabbing the back of France's shirt and, with a surprising amount of strength and brutality, threw him into the opposite wall. "G't off of F'nland you p'rvert. 'nd in front of mah son too..."  
Sweden stomped out of the room and returned, carrying a gun.  
"What? No! Please, I can explain!" pleaded France, quickly standing up.  
"D'n't want to hear it. You touch F'nland without his p'rmission, you pay." he loaded the gun.  
To France's horror, Finland went to get a gun as well. He presumed that he wouldn't be getting any more help from the Nordic. And he was terrified. Not especially because of Sweden... mostly because of the furious look in Finland's eyes. He suddenly understood how this nation survived all his wars with Russia.

He ran out of the house, jumping over the suddenly rabid dog and past a frozen Sealand, who eyed him with a confused look. He slipped into his car and drove off again, hoping to make up for lost time.

He heard a few gunshots and a screech of tires. He nearly choked.  
The black van was following him again, this time accompanied by a sleek silver car that he presumed to be Sweden's.

France somehow managed to use his mad driving skills (he swerved through traffic like a lunatic) to lose his stalkers again.  
He made it through Sweden and was now in Norway.  
"Remember France..." muttered the nation to himself. "At least try to keep your gorgeous hands to yourself this time. Or you will die. Hm... I can't believe Finland didn't want to have sex with me... Hon hon, maybe he and Sweden... Ah, that must have been it! How cute!"  
He parked his car quickly, knocking over a mailbox. He cussed then ran into Norway's house without ringing the doorbell or knocking. The door was unlocked. He must be having a slow-minded visitor over.

"Norway! It's an emergency! Nor-..." he laughed when he saw the Nordic he was looking for, who, at that moment, was strangling Denmark with a tie.  
France couldn't keep his mouth shut.  
"Hon hon, now that's true love... Norway, you leave Denmark absolutely breathless! Didn't know you were into such kinky stuff! Can I join?"

A coffee table flew at him and hit him square in the forehead. He let out a sob.  
Why? Why couldn't he resist the temptations? Was it in his French blood to not be able to mind his own damn business? He grabbed his forehead.  
"I'm sorry! That's not what I wanted to say! I wanted to say that Russia was-..." he trailed off when he realized that he had ruined his chance. Norway had a furious blush on his face.  
"Denmark, could you do me a favor?" he asked calmly.  
"If it makes you happy, Nor..." coughed the Danish man, loosening his tie.  
"Get your ax."

"Nooooooooon!" exclaimed France, turning around and springing for the door. He avoided a huge, green troll that tried to rip off his leg. "What the hell is that THING?"  
He jumped into his car again and drove.  
"Note to self, Norway has a freaking troll guard!" cried the nation. "Urg, how scary."

He made it to the pier and took the next ferry that was leaving to Denmark. Thankfully, he caught one a few seconds before it left, which meant that he would have a few hours ahead of the group chasing him. Unless Norway had a jet.  
France face palmed. He hadn't thought of that. They all had a private jet. And he had passed Oslo before getting to the pier. So it was probable that they would be waiting.  
Not wanting to explore the ship in case the mob had actually gotten onto this boat, he sat in his car all night. He spent the whole time grumbling about how touchy the eastern and northern Europeans were. And about gas prices.  
After a few hours, he truly hoped that his chasers had forgiven him and returned home. But, unfortunately, Danish police was waiting at the pier, so he had to borrow/steal a woman's outfit and makeup and abandon his car to make it off of the ship safely.

Once he was a safe distance from the port, he realized that he had to decide how to get to Switzerland. He could drive through Germany, but he highly doubted that the man would appreciate him doing that without permission and, right now, he didn't feel like annoying anymore people. He could cut through the Netherlands and Belgium, then his own country, but that was the first place anybody would search for him. He didn't have time to take a plane, because it would be a matter of minutes until his stalkers realized that they didn't catch him leaving the boat.  
France was an idiot, but not stupid.  
He decided to use the technique that hadn't failed him so far. He resisted seducing any Danish women, stole another car and drove.

He made it through northern Germany without annoying him. Unfortunately for him, his car's brakes - his vehicle probably being older and slower than the first one - broke down. He totaled himself against a tree. Luckily for him, he was immortal (though he felt the pain of being pancaked between his car and the trunk) and he was right in front of Poland's house.

* * *

**I think do that Finland has a hidden pervy side. Since he did pick out the dirty books for Germany in WW2. Plus, he is a grown-ass man, no matter how sweet his face is.  
Well, hope you liked it (don't worry, Iceland wasn't here because France didn't go to his country, but he'll appear in the story)! Leave a review? Pwease?  
Bye bye lala kiss kiss...  
XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (cries when seeing France's debt grow with every car he steals)**


	4. There Are Two Women In Poland's House

**Hiya! Fourth chapter of this random story that makes its author give off an impression of being a pothead (which I am not. I'm just weird and have an overactive imagination. People who criticize me are just jealous because they wish they could converse with pineapples)!  
I hope nobody was traumatized by the dirtiness of the last chapter. Because it's gonna get worse.  
So, remember to do the accents (Poland's one is so fun to do). I don't own Hetalia (aw).**

* * *

He made it through northern Germany without annoying him. Unfortunately for him, his car's brakes - his vehicle probably being older and slower than the first one - broke down. He totaled himself against a tree. Luckily for him, he was immortal (though he felt the pain of being pancaked between his car and the trunk) and he was right in front of Poland's house.

* * *

He threw himself out of his wrecked car and smashed on the Polish man's door.  
The door opened.  
"Yo 'sup playa!" grinned Poland, before laughing. "Why are you dressed up as a woman?"  
"Well, you're the one to talk Poland..." sniggered France, eying the other nation's outfit. "French maid? Very cute. And sexual."  
"Well thanks broski!" smiled the Polish, dragging France into his house. "Did we schedule a meeting? Or did you just, like, come to compare dresses?"  
"Actually - and I hate to admit this - I need you help. I am being followed by a bunch of angry nations, so I need to get into Switzerland until they calm down." sighed France, smoothing down his dress.

"Followed?" asked Poland.  
"Yeah. I got them mad and they want my derrière." huffed France. "Will you help me?"  
"I, like, totally want to see you get your ass kicked! It would be like, soooo entertaining." laughed Poland, making France die a little inside. "Depends who you're running from though."  
"Euh... Russia... among others. Oh, there is Lithuania after me too, but he only joined the mob because Belarus was there." explained France. "They all want to get me."  
"Eh?" gasped the Polish man. "Russia's a big psycho! And Liet is... because Belarus..." He suddenly looked a little angry for a reason France couldn't comprehend. "I'm like, totally going to help you get to Switzerland, broski! Just this once! Follow me!"  
France nearly cried of happiness. This time, he remembered not to try and molest his savior. He could always show Poland his 'appreciation' some other time. 'Appreciation' being his junk.

"I appreciate this very much, Poland." grinned France. Poland stopped walking.  
"France..."  
"What is it?" the Frenchman started panicking. Did he do something bad again?  
"Your lipstick is like, totally wrong for you eye color."  
"Oh."

The Pole pulled France to the back of his house and put his hand on the doorknob of the last door on the left.  
"OK, what you will see here will, like, totally blow your mind! It's the fastest way I know to get anywhere!" exclaimed Poland.  
France shivered in anticipation. Poland opened the door.

"... A horse?" deadpanned France, eying the animal trying to eat his dress.  
"No way, broski! It's a pony!" giggle Poland, nuzzling the creature. "Unfortunately, you'll, like, not make it any further than Austria. A unicorn could last longer but I, like, ran out."  
France started crying.

Two minutes later, the people of Poland watched as a tall, hairy woman galloped by on a pony.

France made it through the Czech Republic and Slovakia with virtually no trouble (apart from traumatizing anyone who came close enough to him to see he was a man) and was now in Austria.  
Apparently he was much heavier than Poland because his mount passed out, wheezing, a few blocks away from Austria's house. France had to run the rest of the way, leaving a message on the pony, telling anyone who found it to send it to Warsaw.

"Austria! Austria!" he drummed the door.  
It opened to reveal Austria's head poking around the door. He gave France a long look, taking in his Danish dress, then slammed the door in his face.  
"Go away." he huffed.

"NON!" screamed France, banging the door, scratching it with his nails. "You don't understand! You have to help me or I'll diiiiiie!"  
"Well suck it up." came Austria's voice.  
"I can't! Please at least hear me out!" begged France.  
With a sigh, Austria opened the door and let the French in.  
"Fine. Make it quick."

"Merci!" France smiled. "Quite a few nations want to beat me up, but because I have such a beautiful face and because I'm a really sore loser, I don't want them to!"  
"Oh really? What on earth did you do?" Austria huffed and turned his head, making smooth dark brown hair flick in front of his frames which accentuated his sexy blue eyes. France's balls suddenly started working again. An uncontrolable thirst that had been literally squished (when riding on a horse).  
He cursed under his breath, trying to hold it in, but he couldn't.  
He gently grabbed Austria's arm. The man froze in horror.  
"Misunderstandings...You have to help me! I haven't gotten laid in a while and you're so handsome! I need to... touch you!" croaked France, eyes shining anime-style.

"WHAT?" exclaimed Austria. "No way! Get out!"  
Instead of complying, France literally ripped off his dress so that he was naked.  
"ARG! You aren't even wearing underwear?" gasped the Austrian.  
"Oh, no! It's easier to pee when all you have to do is lift up the dress! Hon hon... Scares people in public bathrooms though..." France grinned. "So... Austria... Do you want to do it?"  
"WHAT? NO!"  
"Then why did you lick your lips?"  
"I... I..." Austria blushed and backed up, but France pushed him onto the couch and yanked his shirt open. "The weather is making my lips dry! Get away! I will not do such vulgar things!"

Suddenly, multiple flashes came.  
The two men turned to see Hungary with a camera in one hand and a frying pan in the other. She was biting her lip, pink and giggling at the scene in front of her.  
She noticed them noticing her.  
"Oh! I left the flash on did I?" she asked sheepishly. "Um... Um..."  
She turned off the camera and shoved it in her pocket. Then, she swung her pan at France's head.  
"Don't you dare put your hands on Mr. Austria (unless I'm filming)!" she cried.

France panicked and ran out of the house, still fully nude (with a rose censoring his vital regions of course).  
Not knowing what to do, he shoved a fat kid off of his skateboard and rode it through the streets of Austria, wondering how long it would take him to get to Switzerland using this mode of transport.

After a few hours of stealing a compass and going westward, he heard a lot honking. Carefully glancing behind him, he noticed in horror that a black van (with Russia, his sisters and the Baltics), a sleek silver car (with Sweden at the wheel, Finland besides him and Denmark, Norway, Sealand and Hanatamago in the back), a blue Renault (with Austria and Hungary in it) and about half a dozen Austrian police cars.  
"Merde! Shit!" he cursed, tears flowing down his cheeks. "Pourquooiiiiiii?"  
It's not that he was embarrassed to be skateboarding across Austria butt naked, his package flailing (those people should be honored to witness his godlike sculpture), but he was hungry, sexually frustrated, tired, had a cramped and aching body and damn, he didn't like having so many people despise him! He was the country of love, not the country of hate!  
Sure, it was mostly his fault for trying to molest some of them, but he was France dammit! They should be flattered! And used to it!  
Then again, this was the fist time he tried molesting one of Russia's sister, the first time he got caught by Sweden and Sealand trying to molest Finland. Not the first time he tried to molest Austria (Oh, he had succeeded before. Austria hadn't even fought back that much either. However, this was the first time he had to run out of his house naked. He presumed streaking wasn't authorized in the streets of Vienna).  
He had asked for this. France shook his head in denial. He had of tendency of not learning his lessons and blaming his problems on others.  
No matter what he did and how illegal and disrespectful it was, they didn't have to be this angry at him for it! Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

He quickly turned around the corner to try and lose them, knowing that there was no way he could outskate them when they were driving cars. He widened his eyes at the sign hanging above him and the crowd on the street. Bingo.

Well, as China once said, every major city had a Chinatown. And Chinatown meant many people buying bootlegged stuff, walking around the road, making it nearly impossible for his pursuers to drive at full speed on that lane.

* * *

**In case you didn't catch it...  
derrière - behind  
Merci - thank you  
Merde - shit  
pourquoi - why**

**Poland is the only one to help France so far ('cause he's angry (jealous :3) that Lithuania only joined to be with Belarus). France is truly desperate, isn't he? And That's the extent of a Polish person's ingenuity (joking, joking, my friend is Polish and she's super smart).  
So... Yeah... I hope you liked it. If you did, leave me a review! I'm starting to feel lonely here...  
Adios amigos!  
XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (at my school's fair, I volunteered for 2h and half of work and got a jumbo pack of M&Ms as payment! Awesome sauce ;p)  
**


	5. There Is A Dim Sum Restaurant In Austria

**Chapter 5! This story isn't going to be very long, only a few chapters left. After that, I will leave France in pieces... URGH, I meant in peace ]:)  
Well, I don't own Hetalia, use this as an opportunity to practice accents and, most importantly, enjoy! Apologies if the chapter isn't very long!**

* * *

Well, as China once said, every major city had a Chinatown. And Chinatown meant many people buying bootlegged stuff, walking around the road, making it nearly impossible for his pursuers to drive at full speed on that lane.

* * *

He had an urge to buy the delicious smelling food, but unfortunately his wallet had been inside the dress he had dumped on Austria's floor.

Wait, maybe China was here? China could help him! Sure, their relations weren't the best, but Asians were calmer and more mild tempered than all these feisty Europeans! Well, as long as he didn't get him angry... He would at least hear him out!  
He skated around the street (making people faint and cover their kids' eyes) until he saw a familiar man sitting in a dim sum restaurant.  
"China! China!" he gasped, picking up his skateboard and groaning when bending his legs to walk. He was so stiff after all of that. "I need your aid!"

He streaked through the restaurant, ignoring the screaming people who stared at his butt.  
He noticed that at the table with China was Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Thailand, India and Vietnam.  
"China? Why would you be eating lunch with all the other Asian nations in a Chinatown in Austria?"he asked curiously.  
"I invited all the Asian nations so that we could bond over our mutual dislike for the Western nations' habit of sleeping nude, sunbathing half naked in public and sexual openness aru. The weather in the east is bad right now so I invited them here. Mongolia, Macao, Singapore and the others are late aru..." sighed China. He then noticed who he was talking to. "Ni hao, France. What are you doing-... AAAAAAYYYYAAAAAAAAHHH WHY ARE YOU NAKED ARUUUUUU?"  
France flinched.  
"Euh, well, you see..."

"Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea, you're only kids, don't look! How indecent aru!" shouted China.  
"This dishonors your ancestors, France-san!" gasped Japan.  
"Why is his dick so big?" laughed South Korea.  
"It's just your's that's small..." deadpanned Taiwan.  
"..." The Korean glared. "That type of meanness was not invented by me."  
"..." Vietnam choked on her dumplings, blushing. "Gross..."  
"Oh look, a naked man." Hong Kong took a picture of France on his camera phone.  
"Would you please cover up your private parts ana? You are disturbing the people here." sighed Thailand, looking down at his food.  
India just facepalmed.

"It's not my fault, I left my clothes at Austria's place!" pleaded France.  
Everyone gave him a long look.  
"Austria place, huh?" Eventually sighed Taiwan, shaking her head. "As we said, these western nations..."  
"I didn't mean it like that!" gasped France. "Well, granted, it almost did end up like that and I sure wanted it to, but Hungary..."  
We was cut off by a wok in the face. He stumbled, groaning in pain, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He checked to make sure he still had all his teeth (yep), but hissed when he felt his busted lip throbbing.

"No! I'm sorry! This is a life or death issue! I know that you Asian nations are too uptight and boring to understand the beauty of my naked body, but that's not the biggest problem here! You see, I'm terrified because Russia..."  
He trailed off when the Asians suddenly started glowering with murderous intent. Japan took out a katana, Vietnam took out a paddle and most of the other countries readied themselves to fight.  
"Boring?" huffed India, taking a step closer.  
"With our intricate and fascinating history?" added Japan.  
"We are not uptight aru! You're just a disgrace!" China tried swinging his wok at him again.

This time, France ducked. He backed out of the restaurant, eying the Asians stepping towards him in horror. This was like one of those American zombie games!  
But this wasn't zombies trying to get him. This was much worse. This was group of furious Asians.  
"Feel our wrath aru!" shouted China, charging at him.  
"Don't dishonour us!" huffed Japan.  
"Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan..." Hong Kong readied his fists. "Let's show this French how totally not boring we are!"  
"We'll teach you the real meaning of terrified!" growled Vietnam, pole jumping over tables using her paddle.  
"Taekwondo originated in Korea!" shouted the angry boy, smashing a chair with his foot.  
"Careful! You'll end up having to pay for that!" huffed India, picking up one of the broken chair legs and twirling it in his hands like a spear.  
"Long live my country. Long live our king ana!" added Thailand, rubbing his hands together. "France, have you ever witnessed Thai boxing ana?"  
"Well, screw this." sighed Taiwan, pulling out a pistol. "I'll do it the efficient way!"

"Ah... Yes... Um... I will be... going now..." said France, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Tactical retreat!"  
He zig-zagged though small lanes and managed to throw the Asians off by hiding in a clothing store. Since the shop was pretty empty, apart from the sleeping cashier, he hadn't been notice. He quickly grabbed a pair of underpants off of a rack (it had a Chinese flag across the butt).  
"I guess it's just you and me for now, skateboard." sighed the French, thankful that he attracted a little less attention by wearing underwear and now every policeman he would meet would probably not try to arrest him. He skated off.

He quickly sneaked out of the Chinatown, relieved when the roads didn't contain any angry vans and police cars. He knew it wouldn't last though. They would find him sooner or later. Especially the Asians, with their creepy Asian powers of smartness, musical prodigies, ninjas and kung fu.

He stole a parked bicycle.  
"Yes! Hon hon! This is much faster!" smirked France. "At this rate, I'll be in Switzerland in no time! And it's much easier to travel through the Alps on a bike then on a skateboard!"  
However, France knew that all the nations would be waiting for him at the Swiss border unless he made it in without them catching him. He cycled to the nearest train station, pick pocketed someone and bought a train ticket to Geneva. Somehow, he made it into the country without spontaneously combusting at the border, which was what he had always thought would happen.  
He felt safer than he had in days. For now.

* * *

**To be continued in the next episode of... "Let's enjoy a random story where France suffers"!  
I'm starting to feel guilty for putting this poor guy through all of this. Well, he deserves it. Never tell an Asian that their history sucks. Most of us are proud of our thousands of years old history. Plus, we know kung fu.**

**Dim sum – Cantonese dumplings**  
**Ni Hao – Hello in Mandarin**  
**~aru – Japanese stereotype on how Chinese speak**  
**~ana – Japanese stereotype on how Thais speak**  
**wok – huge Chinese frying pan (also a name of a dish)**  
**katana – Japanese sword**  
**Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan – Two legendary Cantonese kung fu fighting movie stars. If you don't know who they are I suggest you Google them. Now.  
Taekwondo - Korean martial arts**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a review?**  
**'Til next time!**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (shoot, it's like, 1 am and I have 2 exams to study for tomorrow)**


	6. There Is A Brit In Switzerland

**Next chapter!  
I'm still enjoying seeing my own country suffer. I'm not a masochist or anything. It's amusing.  
I hope you like this chapter. It's kinda crazy but, then again, this story is classified Humor + Parody so that's the way it is.  
Memo: I don't own Hetalia. Accents. Enjoy.**

* * *

He stole a parked bicycle.  
"Yes! Hon hon! This is much faster!" smirked France. "At this rate, I'll be in Switzerland in no time! And it's much easier to travel through the Alps on a bike then on a skateboard!"  
However, France knew that all the nations would be waiting for him at the Swiss border unless he made it in without them catching him. He cycled to the nearest train station, pick pocketed someone and bought a train ticket to Geneva. Somehow, he made it into the country without spontaneously combusting at the border, which was what he had always thought would happen.  
He felt safer than he had in days. For now.

* * *

The sun was setting when he arrived.  
"Yes! I'm free! Hon hon, no one can catch _la France_!"  
He knew that no one had followed him. All he had to do now was go see Switzerland and beg him not to shoot him for intruding into his country without permission. At least he didn't have half of the world after him.

He knocked on Switzerland's door. A little blond girl opened.  
"Hello! Big brother is in a meeting right now..." Liechtenstein trailed off when she noticed what France was wearing. Her cheeks flamed. She stepped aside, letting the man in. "It's quite cold outside today."  
"Thank you... I'm sorry for this." he sighed.  
He walked into the house, following the voices he heard to find the Swiss.

With the manners of an exhausted French man, he stormed into the meeting without knocking.  
Switzerland and Britain jumped about a foot up in the air when they saw him. The Swiss reached for his gun.  
"Don't shoot!" gasped France, but it was too late. Switzerland aimed and pulled the trigger.  
Since France expected this, he rolled to the side, but ended up getting grazed on the arm by the bullet.  
He shouted in pain, grabbing onto his arm to stop any bleeding.  
"It's a matter of life or death! I need you to let me stay in your country!" tried France again.

Switzerland looked taken aback.  
"Why the hell would I agree to that?" he growled. "How did you get onto my property?"  
"Um... big brother?" Liechtenstein peeked around the door. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have let him in but he looks like he suffered so much so I couldn't just leave him outside!"  
Her voice softened to a whisper.  
"Being left on the streets with no hope is such a horrible feeling! All you want is for someone to smile at you, or help you, or even take you in. I'm sorry, big brother..."

"Urg! Liechtenstein, don't come in! It's fine, don't worry about it, I'm not angry at you!" huffed Switzerland. "Put some clothes on, I can't believe she had to see something this indecent!"  
"I have nothing anymore!" cried France. _Oh, how I miss my Louis Vuitton..._

"Why are you here, France? You aren't usually one who enjoys the idea of trespassing or illegal immigration. You're no Italy." Switzerland seemed to have calmed down from his original shock. "I'll go get a pair pants from my room. I can't have you walking around wearing that with Liechtenstein here. You better explain yourself when I come back."  
He left, shutting the door behind him.

"France, what the bloody hell are you doing here?" France turned around to face Britain. "And why are you wearing underwear with the Chinese flag on it?"  
"It's a long story, Britain..." sighed France, sitting on the couch, dropping his face between his hands. He nearly let out a sob. "I pissed off many nations. They want me to pay. I haven't eaten or slept properly or had sex in almost two days. I look like crap and hurt everywhere. Plus, I'm cold too."

He felt something soft touch his head. He looked up and saw Britain handing him his own coat.  
"Put this on then." he then sat besides France. "I've never seen you look this miserable. It's strangely satisfying yet pitiful. I'm sure you deserved it though."  
That caused France to snap. He hadn't had any sympathy in a long, long time. He threw himself onto Britain and hugged him around the middle.  
"Britain! I have an ego and pride larger than Asia so I am serious when I say this! You have to help me convince Switzerland to protect me or let me stay at your house if he doesn't want me here! Aren't we kind of like friends?" he cried. "Don't I mean anything to you? We've been together for so long... Don't you want me to be indebted to you?"  
"Well, that's tempting, but you're already indebted to me for helping you hide your general during WW2 and for defending you at the UN, when your country was nearly called out for treason. And you're really such an annoying git. I don't want you around all the time. Don't touch me." Britain pried France's arms off his body.

"I'll do anything Britain! Please... Please! I've never seen all the nations so angry! Not even after my country collaborated with the Nazis..." France straightened his back.  
"Well, most of us dream of seeing you go down." admitted Britain.  
"Why? Because of jealousy?" snorted the French. Britain glared at him.  
"No! Because you're a pervert, you molest people, you're an indecent wanker, you can't keep your bloody mouth shut, you criticize everything and you just _expect _people to be wowed by your looks and want to bed you!" The English man stood up to face France. "This is what happens after centuries of pissing people off! One moment or another, everything will end up turning against you!"

"But they're all so scary when they're angry and that's saying something because I'm no Italian!" cried France. "And I'm not talking one or two, but over a dozen! Maybe even more! One of them is Russia! I mean, look at me! Look at my face! I mean, it's still gorgeous and scars do look sexy on me, but it's not as beautiful as before! And I'm hungry..."  
France moaned when his stomach gargled.  
Britain raised a brow.  
"I've got a scone in my bag..."  
"I'd rather eat a dead possum, Britain." deadpanned France.

The Brit jumped back and looked furious.  
"You... You... Whenever anyone tries to be nice to you this is what you do, you git!" he growled.  
"Hon hon... But nothing can compare to my food..." France smirked. "Or maybe you can, Britain."  
England froze in shock and horror.  
"Did you listen to what I just said?" he shouted.  
"No. When people criticize me I tend to go on power-saving mode. Plus, I was joking. I would never eat you physically, only sexually. With all the crappy excuse for food you eat, I'll get blood poisoning eating your flesh."

"... That's it France." sighed Britain. "I tried to be sympathetic but you deserve this."  
He pulled out a mobile. He clicked a few buttons and started speaking into it, giving France an evil grin.  
"CALLING ALL NATIONS! Who wants to see that bloody wanker France learn his lesson once and for all? I know some of you were recently trying to catch him and, well, we've got him in Switzerland! Mobilize and join us to beat the crap out of him! I'm pretty sure China wouldn't mine providing cheap pitchforks for anyone who comes along!"

France's eyes widened in horror. He tried to grab the phone from Britain and tackle him to the ground.  
"NOOOO! Don't come! Go home and enjoy delicious French food!" he shouted.  
"France, don't bloody touch me there!" snarled Britain, since the other man's hand was far too close to his vital regions for his comfort. "Pervert!"  
"It was an accident!" cried France.  
"You know you want to see France cry like a little bitch!" laughed England into his phone, fully enjoying his arch-nemesis' desperation. "And apologize for molesting you! OK, nations of the world! Come to Switzerland's border!"

He hung up. France didn't detach his eyes from the phone.  
"Britain..." he whispered. "What did you do? Je suis dans la meeeeerrrdddeee!"

* * *

**Louis Vuitton - French brand for expensive stuff  
Je suis dans la merde! - I'm in deep shit!  
It's pronounced (excuse crappy phonetic translation, but that's how I would translate it for an English speaker. You can use always Google translate and get the computerized lady to say it): Juh sewee daon la mehrd**

**Man, Britain is evil, isn't he? Can't blame him.**  
**Hope you liked it! Now, France officially has the whole world after him.**  
**Love, review, kisses.**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (FrUk vs USUK. I like both pairings and my favorite depends on my mood. I usually prefer FrUK though, because I'm French and don't want France to end up lonely)**


	7. There Are Accidents In The Stairs

**Update yay ~ !  
I set my alarm to 'kolkolkolkolkol...'. Heheh, sweet dreams to me.  
So, enjoy, accents, I don't own Hetalia (thankfully for France, poor guy).**

* * *

"You know you want to see France cry like a little bitch!" laughed England into his phone, fully enjoying his arch-nemesis' desperation. "And apologize for molesting you! OK, nations of the world! Come to Switzerland's border!"

He hung up. France didn't detach his eyes from the phone.  
"Britain..." he whispered. "What did you do? Je suis dans la meeeeerrrdddeee!"

* * *

England huffed.  
"Payback for all those centuries of trouble you caused me." Britain cackled evilly. "Feel lucky. Next time, I'll curse you and turn you into a burrito. And I will make sure that Mexico eats you by accident!"  
"Connard! Salaud!" shouted France, tackling Britain to the ground again. "I thought we were friends!"  
"Friends my ass! All you ever do is try to fight with me, argue with me or forcefully try to sleep with me!" spat England.  
"It's isn't 'forceful' if both partners want it!" snapped France.  
"I'm sorry, I don't remember a single moment of my life where I was attracted to blond pedo-frogs!" hissed Britain.  
"That hurts Britain! We've known each other for so long! Why wouldn't you just admit that you don't hate me and that I am hotter than anyone! Honhon!" smirked France.  
"Because you're a bloody wanker with soggy bread from brains!"  
"Your heart is made of expired scones!"  
"Your heart is made out of cheese, alcohol and self-obsession all wrapped up in a tiny, tiny condom!"  
France gasped.  
"Now that was low Britain." he muttered. "That was so, so low. You know my dick is far superior in size than most of the nations. You have seen me naked after all."

England blushed crimson.  
"That was an accident! It was a long meeting and I drank a lot of tea! I knocked on the bathroom door and you didn't reply! So I thought it was empty, OK? I didn't expect you to be using the shower at that time! And besides, it's not as if I was examining your slutty body anyway!"  
"Slutty? Or sexy?" asked France, raising an eyebrow. He leaned forward, making Britain even more uncomfortable.  
"You really want to DIE do you, you bloody-..."

"WHAT the heck are you two _doing?_" mused Switzerland, leaning on the door frame and rubbing his face with a hand, his eyes taking in Britain sprawled all over the floor with France towering over him. The French smiled sweetly and sat back.  
England got off the floor, clearing his throat and smoothing his shirt.  
"Another bloody fight. I guess I'll be leaving, Switzerland, since we probably won't get this meeting finished today. Thank you for having me over. Oh, and France..." he turned around and smirked. "You can keep the coat."  
France suddenly remembered in how much shit he was.  
"Damn you jerk Britain!" he cried at the man's retreating back. "I will not be taken down! Well, as long as I'm here..." he turned to the Swiss. "You'll let me stay, right?"

Switzerland sighed and stepped towards him.  
"I am a neutral country, so I'm not taking sides. I'm not going to protect you but... as long as you don't do anything, and I mean anything, that could be deemed inappropriate, I will not be siding with your enemies either. I have very little tolerance for outsiders so you better be careful. Besides, throwing you out would involve me touching you or shooting you, and I have already wasted one bullet. Bullets are expensive."  
France's eyes shone.  
"Really Switzerland? Thank you so much!" He stood up and put on the pants he was offered.

He walked up to a mirror and inspected his reflexion. He stared in shock at what he saw.  
"Boring coat... Cheap pants... Cuts and bruises..." he muttered, then grinned. "And I somehow totally pull that look off! Honhon, I'm so beautiful."

"I'll cook for you!" suddenly gasped France. "I might be a guy who loves to profit from the sidelines, but I can be appreciative when I want to! I'll go find a bank, get some money (even if I have a dept the size of America's ego and really shouldn't be spending. How do you do it, Switzerland?), buy some ingredients and fix you and your little sister a delicious meal!"  
Switzerland shrugged.  
"Well, a free meal is the same as saving money. So I'm in. I'm sure Liechtenstein would enjoy it too."

France grinned.  
"You can be a pretty cool guy, Switzerland. Big, cute eyes. I was wondering, do you want to..."  
"No. Don't push your luck." huffed Switzerland, checking to make sure his gun was loaded. Just in case.  
"OK, OK... Love cannot be forced!" he smiled. "I would never force a person to sleep with me! They just beg me to let them into my bed! Like Britain! Always purring at my door like a cat in heat..."  
The Swiss rolled his eyes. As if.  
"... and then, when he is naked on my bed, he will lean in and whisper..."  
France's eyes turned all dreamy.  
"France... Oh babe! I know that I am a proud, snobby man but... now... I want you to treat me like a dirty, dirty bitch."

Switzerland choked on his spit.  
France snapped out of his reveries.  
"Oh, sorry. I haven't been laid in a while. I tend to put my artistic French imagination to good use at moments like these." he admitted sheepishly.  
"When is the last time you...?" trailed off the Swiss, a little curious.  
"Oh, like, three or four days ago! Terrible, right?" sighed France, shaking his head.  
Switzerland huffed. Three or four days? More like three or four decades for him. Probably longer.  
He had much more important things to think about, like how to profit from the current financial crisis or how to get that Austrian bastard out of his head.

"It takes you that little time to suffer from withdrawal symptoms?" he asked, starting to feel a little self-conscious.  
"Hm? Yes. I'm French, non?" beamed the man. "I just need the softness of a beautiful woman, you know? Though, sometimes, the firmness of a male body is just as satisfying. I could totally do with a hot man with a crappy attitude and a sexy accent right now. Do you have any of those lying around here, Switzerland?"  
"No. Britain just left five minutes ago." pointed out the Swiss.  
"What?" gasped France. "I didn't mean that _rosbiff_! That traitor! I meant another man, with a kinder heart and a less ugly face!"

"..." Switzerland realized that, when France was in this type of mood, trying to get him to talk sense was a hopeless case.  
The Frenchman sighed.  
"Switzerland? I have a secret I need to tell you."  
"Yes?" replied the Swiss, trying to stay patient with this frustrating guy.  
"I was actually talking about Britain."  
"Yeah, I got that." snorted Switzerland, a vein popping on his forehead. "Please, get out of my sight. I have to reschedule my meeting with that guy."

"Sure." smiled France. "I'll go buy food!"  
He checked himself out one last time before opening the door. He suddenly felt a sense of freedom that nearly made him cry of happiness.  
No one chasing him. No one could hurt his face. This was perfection! All that was missing now was a sexy lady for him to squeeze. He giggled (don't tell Britain) and ran down the corridor, humming his anthem to himself.  
He jumped down the staircase, feeling high with excitement despite his severe lack of sleep.

Unfortunately, he ended up missing the last step and fell down the rest of the flight of stairs.  
He happened to land on Liechtenstein. He frowned when his face squished against two miniature pillows. He didn't know her boobs were existent.  
"Eep!" squealed the girl. "Are you OK?"  
France grunted in pain, relieved that she wasn't screaming or calling him a pervert. He was glad that some people could recognize an accident when they saw one.

Then, France sealed his fate.  
He motorboated Switzerland's little sister.

* * *

"So that's how I ended up having to hide here!" smirked France, taking in Germany and Italy's horrified looks. "That girl, Liechtenstein... Hon hon! She is becoming a soft, pretty woman, like Belgium. However, she has Switzerland's temper and America's right hook."  
"... How the heck are you still alive?" sighed Germany. He knew that he shouldn't be surprised any more but France just seemed to come up with more stupid shit to do everyday.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Useful everyday vocab that can be used in Paris:  
Connard! Salaud! - Asshole! Bastard! etc etc (pronounced: cohnar ('a' sound in 'cat'), salo)  
rosbiff – roast-beef. What we French affectionately call the Brits**

**Our anthem: La Marseillaise. Written in 1792 to get France pumped for war against Prussia and Austria.**  
**Motorboating: putting your face between boobs and shaking your head. In case you didn't know (hey, this story is T rated after all).**  
**  
So, I hope you enjoyed it. A couple chapters left. I should be studying. Ah well.  
And, for those who picked up the slight How I Met Your Mother reference, good on ya'. Here's a cookie. If you didn't get it and you watch the show, here's a hint: did I pick the right tie?  
Love, review, smile,  
XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (loves mochi countries)**


	8. There Is A Mob Outside Germany's House

**A little late compared to past updates, but I've got exams coming up so, well, apologies.  
Thanks for reviews! Glad you guys are enjoying it.  
I don't own Hetalia. Accents (I'm sorry for reminding you guys every time, but I love accents). Enjoy.**

* * *

"So that's how I ended up having to hide here!" smirked France, taking in Germany and Italy's horrified looks. "That girl, Liechtenstein... Is becoming a soft, pretty woman, like Belgium. However, she has Switzerland's temper and America's right hook."  
"... How the heck are you still alive?" sighed Germany. He knew that he shouldn't be surprised any more but France just seemed to come up with more stupid shit to do everyday.

"Well, I made it out of the house before she could even scream. I was down the road in his car that I hot-wired when I heard the first gunshots. Thankfully for me, that man only had one car because he is so cheap! I used the GPS in his car to locate the airport. Honhon, I sneaked past the authorities, hijacked his private jet and flew all the way here. It was quite difficult making it out of the country unharmed since Switzerland has pretty good aim and fast missiles. However, he didn't really want to waste money blowing up his own aircraft and I do know how to fly planes like a madman. I did invent the Concorde after all. Even if it did crash."  
"Didn't Britain make those planes with you?" asked Germany, huffing when he could hear the mob getting closer and closer.  
"DON'T... Say that name in front of me!" gasped France with disgust. "He betrayed me! I thought we were friends. Aren't we?"

Germany and Italy sweatdropped and exchanged glances. Maybe it was better to steer the subject away from relationships.  
"Ve, Germany? Why didn't you get Britain's call?" said Italy, poking the muscular man in the side.  
"Don't do that. In case you already forgot, you dummkopf, you broke my radio yesterday when you tried to you use it as a microwave oven to re-heat your food. How can you even make that mistake?"  
"Eeeehhh? But I already said sorry Germany! You aren't mad are you? I'm sorry! Please don't hate meeeee!" cried Italy.  
The blond looked taken aback, then softly patted his bed mate on the shoulder.

"Uh... Nein. I'll get it fixed tomorrow." sighed Germany, not in the mood to be angry at the Italian. He was too busy mentally facepalming at France's latest escapade. It made Italy seem smart and disciplined.

Suddenly, someone rang his doorbell.  
"I'll get it!" sang Italy, skipping out of the room.  
Germany and France both gasped and grabbed him by the shoulder before he could touch the doorknob.  
"STOP!" they both hollered.  
"They are all here to get me! Oh mon dieu!" cried France.  
Germany looked through the peephole and jumped back in horror.  
"I can't just let them storm into my house-... HOLY FUHRER! There are hundreds of nations out here!" he shouted, glaring at France, imagining the state of his flowerbeds. Stomped.  
Must. Find. Happy. Place.

"What?" whimpered the French, looking out. "OH NO! Britan's message! They all came for that! This many people want to see me suffer? Oh, can this get any worse?"  
"Ve? The whole world is here! I really want to go say hi!" beamed Italy. Germany grabbed the back of his shirt.  
"Don't." huffed the blond.

* * *

Quite literally everyone was there.

"Isn't this exciting, Romano?" hummed Spain, holding his shovel tightly between his hands.  
The Italian simply glared holes at him.  
"I hate that perverted asshole, but not as much as I hate that potato-eating bastard! My brother is constantly sneaking out of our house in the middle of the night so that he can join that boring German dick-wad in bed."  
Spain chuckled, causing Romano to swing his pitchfork at him.  
"Your jealousy is cute." laughed the Spaniard. "But don't you remember yourself? You used to always climb into my bed when you were just a little kid."  
"Shut up you tomato bastard! I jumped on the bed to crush your fucking balls, so it's not the same thing!" fumed the Italian, red in the face. He hated when this guy brought up him as a child as a topic of conversation.

"Well, either way, I sure am ready to have a fiesta!" smiled Spain. "France is such a nice guy, but he has been really out of control lately. Touching Ukraine so inappropriately just isn't right. She is so kind. He needs to be put back into his place."  
"Don't flatter yourself you idiot. You weren't any better!" huffed Romano.  
"What?" the man looked taken aback. "Why would you say such a thing? I have never tried to drag people into bed with me!"  
"Oh, and wanting to marrying two little kids is any better? Fucking pedophile. That's what you are." sneered the Italian.  
Spain actually looked hurt.  
"What? That's mean! But you were so cute, so I wanted to keep you beside me forever!"  
"Is that why you wanted to marry my dumbass of a brother as well?" said Romano through clenched teeth.

"So that's is what this is about?" sighed Spain. "Romano, you know that I wouldn't have let anyone take you away. Do you know how many times France tried to steal you from me? If I had let him, who knows what would have happened."  
"I still don't get why you even fucking bothered." snorted the Italian, his hands slightly trembling. "You were poor as shit. I saw your boss kick the crap out of you for keeping me around."  
Spain draped an arm around Romano's shoulders.  
"Romano... I didn't care what happened to me as long as I had you. It was worth it."  
"Sh-shut up! You bastard..." grumbled Romano. "It sounds weird when you say it like that."  
Spain just beamed.

"I'm so glad that France will finally learn his lesson." fumed Belgium. "I mean, I know that we are neighbors, but that doesn't mean that he always has to be that _freaking_ close. I'm sick of perverts."  
"That guy..." Netherlands' hands shook angrily as they clenched a weapon. "Did he try to touch you?"  
"Unfortunately. He was pretty romantic about it back then, but now... It just gets annoying." sighed Belgium. "Don't worry about me, big brother. Stop stressing so much."  
Netherlands was currently smoking his seventh pack of cigarettes of the night.  
"I'm not stressed. Just excited."

"Haha! I've been wanting to test out my kick-ass new weapon!" cheered America. "Now's the perfect chance!"  
"I can't believe that he ended up here." smirked Britain, waving his brothers over to join them. "I would have never expected France to run off to Germany. That frog is so dead."  
"I... I hope he won't be hurt too much." added Canada, flinching when someone walked into him. "I mean, I came because I wanted to participate in a world event for once. Thanks for inviting me Britain."  
"Hey, no problem guy-who's-name-I-can't-remember-who-looks-like-Ame rica." answered the Brit.  
"I'm Canada." sighed the nation.  
"Oh, yeah, the maple leaf country. Nice to meet you!" greeted England, grumbling when Scotland ruffled his hair. "Don't touch me you wanker!"  
"... I was in WW2 conferences with you for years. France raised me, remember?"  
"Right. That bloody idiot did mention something about that." thought Britain, giving the Canadian a sympathetic pat. No wonder this guy was invisible. It must be the trauma of growing up with France.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Concorde - The world's fastest passenger plane at that time (1976), created by France and the UK. It crashed in 2000.**  
**dummkopf – 'idiot' in German**  
**nein – 'no'**  
**Oh mon dieu – 'Oh my God' in French**  
**fiesta – party in Spanish**

**So... I hope you liked this chapter. Next one will be out soon, hopefully. And yes, I do think that Spamano is the awesomest thing ever.**  
**Read, review, love :)**  
**Cheers!**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (2 days is not freaking enough for a midterm holiday, especially before exams)**


	9. There Are Sappy Scenes In Korean Dramas

**Next chapter! ARRRRGGG I'm passing my oral exam on Monday so I've been busy all week. For the next month I have to study for my end of year exams. Turns out, our two history/geography teachers messed up their schedules so we are around 10 chapters behind. They indirectly told us that we were on our own. So self teaching civics, here I come!  
Well, I don't own Hetalia. Thank goodness for that because, if you have read my story so far... You'll get it. Accents. Enjoy.**

* * *

"Haha! I've been wanting to test out my kick-ass new weapon!" cheered America. "Now's the perfect chance!"  
"I can't believe that he ended up here." smirked Britain, waving his brothers over to join them. "I would have never expected France to run off to Germany. That frog is so dead."  
"I... I hope he won't be hurt too much." added Canada, flinching when someone walked into him. "I mean, I came because I wanted to participate in a world event for once. Thanks for inviting me Britain."  
"Hey, no problem guy-who's-name-I-can't-remember-who-looks-like-America." answered the Brit.  
"I'm Canada." sighed the nation.  
"Oh, yeah, the maple leaf country. Nice to meet you!" greeted England, grumbling when Scotland ruffled his hair. "Don't touch me you wanker!"  
"... I was in WW2 conferences with you for years. France raised me, remember?"  
"Right. That bloody idiot did mention something about that." thought Britain, giving the Canadian a sympathetic pat. No wonder this guy was invisible. It must be the trauma of growing up with France.

* * *

"Cripes. That's a lot of people here." gasped Iceland, looking around. "Why were you here earlier than me?"  
His brother sniffed.  
"It's a long story, little brother." grunted Norway. "I would rather not dwell on it."  
"Hah! France though Nor and I were having kinky _sex_!" laughed Denmark.  
Norway blushed scarlet and shoved his fist deep, deep into the other man's face.  
"Don't _shout_ it!" he then tripped up Denmark when he was trying to get up. "My bad. Idiot."  
Iceland just blushed and looked away. What his brother did in his free time was none of his business.  
"Papa! What's 'kinky sex'?" chirped Sealand's young voice.  
Denmark looked guiltily at a glaring Sweden and Finland. Whoops. He had forgotten that the boy was innocent and that his 'fathers' were trying to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"W'll yah see... It's... It's s'mthing two people who l've each other like to do... s'mtimes..." tried Sweden, trying to keep his blush down. He was going to shoot the Danish man for this later.  
"Oh? So do you have 'kinky sex' with mama? Since you love him?" asked Sealand, sweetly patting Hanatamago on the head. "I've heard you say his name in your sleep so many times before! Sometimes your breathing is all weird."  
Finland's eyes widened and all the Nordics looked at Sweden, who was silently marinating, mortified, in embarrassment and shame.  
"You what?" gasped Finland, eying the man. He starred in his dirty dreams? He didn't even know that composed, serious Sweden was even capable of such things. How could he not have known after living centuries under the same roof as him (and sleeping in the same bed)? He guessed he must have judged the man too fast, as usual. He shuffled his feet nervously, then just decided to ask Sweden the question that was nagging at his mind. Hell, it couldn't embarrass him any more than it would embarrass Sweden. He just really wanted to know. He cleared his throat and made eye contact with the tall blond.  
"So... Was I good?"

The Nordics' jaws all dropped at this. Maybe Finland wasn't a pure minded little angel after all.  
"Um..." Sweden blushed even more when his 'wife' smiled at him. Seems as if the Finn was no longer terrified of him. This was a side of Finland he had never seen before. He wasn't sure if it turned him on or if it turned him on. "Yes."  
"_What_ are you big people talking about?" sighed Sealand. "Is it something totally bad?"  
"Wh-... No!" gasped Finland, suddenly remembering that there were children and teens around him. "Nothing like that! Just boring grown up stuff! You'll understand one day, yah?"

"If the child is traumatized then it's all your fault." deadpanned Norway, strangling Denmark.  
"ARCK I'm s-ARCK-orry!" cough the man. However, he just wasn't finished embarrassing Sweden, who had just let out the breath he had been holding for ages. Old grudges die hard. The second Norway released him, he continued.  
"So, Sve, tell us the details of your dreams where you play naked twister with Finland."  
Iceland just shook his head and eyed Sweden's red face with pity.

"He, like, nearly killed my favorite pony!" fumed Poland. "After I tried to help him too! Totally not cool!"  
"Why _did_ you help him?" asked Lithuania curiously. "It's not like you particularly like him."  
"Well, why did you, like, join the chase? He didn't do anything to you!" snapped Poland.  
The Baltic seemed taken aback by the man's annoyed green eyes.  
"But... I didn't want Mr. Russia and Miss Belarus to be angry." he answered.  
"That's, like, a totally stupid reason Liet." huffed Poland. "That crazy chick will kill you."  
"Haha. No she won't." denied Lithuania.  
"Yes, she will, Liet! You two totally don't even go well together at all. You should be with someone who, like, totally loves you." sighed Poland.  
"Like... who?" questioned the other nation, racking his brains.  
"Mr. Poland. Hey, Mr. Poland. It's been a long time, huh?" squeaked Latvia, making Lithuania and Poland snap out of their conversation and turn towards him.  
"Oh yeah. Totally." smiled Poland, smoothing his dress.  
"Uh oh. Russia is smiling. I don't like this." whispered Estonia, taking a step away from the Soviet.

"Big brother. Can we beat France up soon? Together?" purred Belarus.  
Russia took a step away form her.  
"Da. Sure thing. Ukraine, are you..." The man's voice died down a little when he saw Ukraine's eyes burning with fury. "...OK?"  
"I can't wait to teach that pervert a lesson. He touched my ginormous boobies! Nobody touches my ginormous boobies!" growled the woman, nails digging into her weapon. "Can we kill him? Can we? Oh, I can't wait to kill him! It will feel so goood..."  
Russia shivered and held his coat tighter. She sounded like Belarus. What was up with her?  
So weird. His sisters were so weird.

"They are so alike, really." smiled Taiwan. "Soviet Siblings. They all have some screws loose."  
"Aiya! Don't be so rude little sister...!" huffed China, then whispered. "...Out loud... These gweilos are so strange, aren't they? Especially Russia. Though he can be so nice, he's mostly super creepy aru."  
"Oh? Russia can be nice?" deadpanned Vietnam. "I wouldn't know..."  
"The USSR broke up a long time ago aru! And America wasn't any better during the war aru..." said China, trying to defend his ex-communist friend.  
"Yeah. They both sucked at that time. You were no better, China." pointed out Vietnam, raising an eyebrow. The older nation cleared his throat guiltily.  
"Oh, whatever." sighed Vietnam. "At least I beat the crap out of France at that war. That was pretty satisfying."  
"France's butt was made in my country! So I'm gonna kick it!" smirked Korea, cracking his knuckles.  
"We'll take France down soon, ana." smiled Thailand, still as friendly as ever. He had brought his pet elephant along. He had taught it how to kick balls around a football field, so that skill could be put to good use now.  
"When does the action start? I'm totally getting bored." huffed Hong Kong, starting to throw kicks in the air.

"Ah, the young. So impatient. I'll make a movie out of this once we're done here." chuckled India. "So many people are here. All the Asian countries. Malaysia, Macao, Singapore, Cambodia, Indonesia, Mongolia, Nepal and others... Even Afghanistan and the other middle eastern countries are here. Everyone seems to be happy. Wow, even Israel and Palestine seem to be getting along well enough for this event."  
The Indian man watched as the two nations agreed over something they both hated about France.  
"The atmosphere is so nice." he raised a brow when he saw a very familiar nation. "Oh, there's Pakistan."  
He and the other country exchanged a wave out of politeness. India was shocked when the man started walking towards him.  
"Chapati?" offered Pakistan, handing him the food. He nodded.  
"I brought some curry over. In case this lasted longer than expected." he added, glad that they could have a normal conversation. Granted, it was about food. They both loved food.  
"It's so cold up here..." shivered Pakistan, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself.  
"Absolutely." laughed India, then he spotted another nation. "Here's someone else that will agree with us. Hey! It's way to cold up here in Europe, isn't it?"  
"Freezing." nodded the Philippines, who had just showed up. "But this is one big party. Anyone would be mad to miss it. Even... Oh my god... Is that..."

Everyone turned around and eyed a small nation, who blushed under the stares.  
"I... I was invited." muttered the boy, a permanent scowl on his face. "The message reached me somehow. Once I heard we were going to teach France a lesson on being respectful, I d-did everything I could to come here." He gulped and smiled tentatively. "Am I still welcomed?"  
Korea threw his hand over his mouth, not knowing where to laugh or cry.  
"B-Brother..." He gasped stumbling forward towards his old twin. Not knowing what else to do, he just hugged him. "It's been so long."  
"I-I shouldn't be here. My boss will be so upset with me." sniffed the other Korean, returning his brother's hug. "But I'll stay as long as I can."  
South Korea laughed and grabbed him by the shoulders.  
"How dramatic! Our story has reached its climax! Awesomeness originates from my country after all!"  
North Korea sighed and managed a tiny twitch of the lips.  
"... You haven't changed at all."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Sve – Sweden's nickname among the Nordics**  
**Naked Twister – what my male classmates have affectionately dubbed the act of love-making.**  
**gweilo – ghost/demon, what we Chinese call foreigners**  
**chapati – south Asian version of a taco**  
**curry – Indian food. Spices mixed with vegetables or meet. Usually spicy and delicious.**

**Yay Iceland!  
So... If you guys haven't guess, I'm a sucker for cheesy reunion scenes. And for seeing enemies get along. I hope no one was offended or anything. I just really wish for world peace.**  
**I used North Korea's and Pakistan's fanon character, since they don't have an official representation yet (neither do a lot of the countries mentioned here, but I included them in my story anyways). I used the wiki to figure their personalities out too. This is how they are described.**  
**Well, see you next chapter (unless I die during my exam)!**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (should be doing work instead of writing cracky stories)**


	10. There Are Many Perverts In This World

**Yay I survived my oral exam! The teacher kept glaring at me and asking me questions that I couldn't answer, so I just smiled and swayed alot :)**  
**So... Thanks for te reviews! You guys are awesome! I just realised that there aren't many events left to go, but still quite a lot of chapters.  
You must have read the manga chapters about Greece and Japan to get this chapter.  
I don't own Hetalia, accents and...**  
**Enjoy!**

* * *

Everyone turned around and eyed a small nation, who blushed under the stares.  
"I... I was invited." muttered the boy, a permanent scowl on his face. "The message reached me somehow. Once I heard we were going to teach France a lesson on being respectful, I d-did everything I could to come here." He gulped and smiled tentatively. "Am I still welcomed?"  
Korea threw his hand over his mouth, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.  
"B-Brother..." He gasped stumbling forward towards his old twin. Not knowing what else to do, he just hugged him. "It's been so long."  
"I-I shouldn't be here. My boss will be so upset with me." sniffed the other Korean, returning his brother's hug. "But I'll stay as long as I can."  
South Korea laughed and grabbed him by the shoulders.  
"How dramatic! Our story has reached its climax! Awesomeness originates from my country after all!"  
North Korea sighed and managed a tiny smile.  
"... You haven't changed at all."

* * *

"How nice. This is the first time North Korea has managed to get out of his country in ages." smiled Japan.  
"Hey, Japan." came a calm, breezy voice.  
The Japanese tensed when he saw the man who brought a ton of memories into his head. Wait, no, not memories, it had all been a dream. A dream. A disgusting nightmare. That's right. He most definitely did not sleep with this man. No matter how good looking he was and how much his dream self had enjoyed it despite the pain.  
"H-Hello Greece-san. Why are you here?" asked Japan.  
"Well..." Greece thought hard. "I got the invite to the 'let's kick the crap out of France' party. He tried to take one of my cats once. But really, I just mostly want to watch people hit him. Is that so wrong?"  
"N-No. Everyone secretly wants to see that." huffed Japan, trying to get the image of a naked France out of his head. Naked. Naked Greece. He blushed. Why was that image so real? It was only a dream.  
"Japan? Are you OK? You look kind of red." asked Greece softly, touching his forehead gently.  
This caused the Asian to feel more and more embarrassed. He was the county of honor. How could he let his family down like this? And how could he explain to Greece that he had a vivid, erotic but somewhat romantic dream about him?  
"Ah... Well, you see..." he trailed off. He really couldn't say this.

"Is this about the other day?" suddenly asked the Greek. Japan tensed.  
"What about the other day?" he tried, horror suddenly filling him. No. Please no.  
"Well... We were together. In my bed. Naked." he whispered seductively into Japan's ear. "Wanna do it again? I'll be more gentle this time."  
Japan stood up and dramatically threw his hands up to the sky.  
"NO! NO! NOOOO!" he screamed, but since they were hundred of nations' conversations around him, his holler was muffled and passed unheard.  
Greece huffed and sat down angrily.  
"Fine. You don't have reject me in such a cruel way." he turned to the Japanese man. "Was I that bad? Huh? That's why, right?"  
Japan blushed guiltily at Greece's sad, pissed face.  
"N-No! That's not what I meant!"  
"Oh? So I was good and you want to do it again?" asked the Greek hopefully, eyes lighting up again.  
"No! I mean..." Japan sighed and lay back on the grass, not making eye contact with the other man. "I wished it didn't happen like that. You... You were my first, Greece-san..."

They were cut off by a loud laugh.  
"Seriously?" snorted Turkey. "But, you're like, old! You've never done it before?"  
Japan mentally groaned. This was getting worse.  
"No. I have not."  
"Pity it had to be with this sorry ass for the first time though, right?" grinned the Turk, pointing in Greece's face. Said man bit his finger. Hard. "Eeeeeeeeep!"  
A totally manly scream for a totally manly guy.

"Well... I never expected it to be with anybody, really. I thought that I would do the honorable thing and wait until I met the right nation and married them before getting to the intercourse." admitted Japan.  
Greece smiled, licking Turkey's blood off of his teeth.  
"That's so cute. You still have morals after thousands of years. It's one of the things I've always liked about you. But don't be so hard on yourself. You are allowed to take a day off being perfect to do what you want. Or two."  
Still with a sweet smile on his face, Greece trailed a hand slowly up Japan's leg.  
"Greece-san!" sputtered the Asian man. "Don't act like France!"  
"I'm nothing like France. Do you want to know why?" he leaned in and whispered in Japan's ear. "I've never had to force myself on anyone. Everyone I've ever slept with had willingly and enthusiastically agreed to be my lover. Right, Japan?"

Then the Greek proceeded to say very, very sexy things into Japan's ear. The man was shaking, red in the face, sweating and really starting to consider the Greek's offer.  
Egypt walked up to him. Catching a few words from Greece's seduction, he wordlessly turned and walked away. He didn't want to be around that man when he was in a naughty 'I-am-the-country-that-has-the-most-sex-in-the-wor ld' mood. It seemed strange to him and, quite frankly made him uncomfortable and a little scared. Greece could occasionally get a little too grabby. He would know.  
He joined Saudi Arabia and started a conversation with him, noticing that every single African and Middle-Eastern country was here. Wow. France's 'love' sure didn't spread.  
He couldn't really pity him though. His hands were even grabbier than Greece's and he seemed to be deaf to the words 'Stop, you pervert!' shouted in every language in existence.

"Poor West! He's stuck in there all alone with France! I don't care if we're buddies, he touches my little brother, the awesome me will kick his butt!" hollered Prussia, grinning like the psycho he was.  
"Romano told me that his brother was with Germany tonight, so it will be the three of them. The three of them..." Hungary shook the image out of her head before she could get a huge nosebleed. "I presume that the two could keep France's vital regions were they belong."  
"I'm not sure about that, Hungary..." sighed Austria. "That man is stronger than he looks. Nearly molested me too."  
Prussia snorted.  
"Oh shut up! You just didn't fight back! The awesome me says that you wanted to bed France. Maybe you already have..."  
"Shut up!" growled the Austria man, blushing furiously. "I would never do such a thing!"

"Oh, come on Austria." smiled Hungary to her ex-husband. "There's nothing to be ashamed of if you did. We all know that France has tried out many different love positions with you. I saw the book he left you. The kama sutra of homosexual intercourse? It had red marker ticks on some pages. You should hide your things better."  
"W-What? How did you..." stammered Austria, red in the face. Hungary just grinned sweetly. She wasn't going to tell him that she had read that book. Twice.  
Even if it was the reason they were here, she really didn't mind the idea of France indulging in her ex. She just acted protective so that they wouldn't get suspicious about her love for yaoi and start looking for cameras before they got it on. That would ruin hours of Hungary's hard work.

"HAH! You've slept with France? The awesome me will laugh now!" Prussia proceeded to laugh his ass off until he was convulsing on the ground like a salmon out of water.  
Switzerland's head turned as he picked up on their conversation. He frowned.  
"Why am I not surprised that you are one of those people who would bed anyone, Austria? And I've heard that you have stripped for plenty of people before." said the Swiss between clenched teeth. Liechtenstein shuffled uncomfortably. She hated seeing her big brother so angry, but being around Austria was inevitable if they wanted to teach France a lesson. And she wanted to punch France for molesting her pure, kind heart. Just one more time.  
"I don't!" snapped Austria, starting to get furious at all this picking. Just because he had once enjoyed the company of one of the world's best lovers... OK, maybe more than once. "Besides, it's none of you idiots' businesses!"  
"Us, idiots? OK, I agree with that for Prussia, but calling us idiots would make you a huge hypocrite, idiot." huffed Switzerland. Prussia stopped laughing and glared at the Swiss.  
"Me? A hypocrite? Who entered Germany without his permission when he himself is so adamant on illegal immigration?" growled Austria, his patience just about running thin for tonight.  
"It's not illegal for me, you idiot! We all signed that Schengen treaty, didn't we? Freedom of movement?" retorted Switzerland.  
"Then why do you shoot anyone that you see?" said Austria. Everyone surrounding them were watching the fight between these two usually cool headed nations.  
"There is a difference between visiting a country and Italy running through my front yard wearing only underwear or France showing up in my room in only briefs!" replied the Swiss on the verge of shouting. Why was he fighting so much with this guy? This had never happened before. At least, not on this scale. "Besides, I don't have to explain myself to you!"  
"Well you started it!" shouted Austria, snapping.

There was a moment of silence surrounding them. When Austria had said that, it brought back memories of childish quarrels for both of the nations.  
"I'm not loose just because I have slept with France." muttered Austria, looking away.  
"Well, then what do you call yourself?" asked Switzerland, with the same embarrassed tone of voice his former friend was using.  
"A man." huffed the nation. "Besides, don't pretend that you're an angel, Switzerland. You _must_ have desired another country before."  
Switzerland narrowed his eyes and started tugging Lichtenstein away by the hand.  
"Never." he spat furiously, marching off.  
However, he turn his head one last time to glare at Austria, his green eyes lingering on the other man's blue ones for a few seconds before he disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Vocab (some stupid, some useful):  
****Kama Sutra – Indian book on sex and sex positions.  
Schengen treaty (1987)– most European countries are in it. You can cross the borders freely between two countries in the Schengen area  
Austria stripping – reference to the Christmas Bloodbath (2007) hosted by Hetalia's author.**

**Guess who loves Giripan and Edelweiss? ME! I mean, come on. What's cuter that a Greek and a Japanese or an Austrian and Swiss? Nothing, that's what.**  
**I'm thoroughly enjoying implying everyone's feelings. And I so agree with France's theory on all the nations having a lot of sexual tensions.  
Plus, we all know that Greece and Austria are perverts :) You see most of the characters stripping in the Christmas Bloodbath so go see that now!  
So, I hope you enjoyed and leave a review!  
See you next time!  
Lalala kiss kiss mua mua bye bye,  
XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (staring at that pile of homework wishing it would somehow disappear. Not working)**


	11. There Is Alcohol In This Party

**Sooooo... I gave up going to a party so that I could study. I did, so now I don't feel too guilty updating this. Thanks for the reviews! Glad to know most people like the pairings I sneak in.  
Now, enjoy the next chapter. Accents. I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

"I'm not loose just because I have slept with France." muttered Austria, looking away.  
"Well, then what do you call yourself?" asked Switzerland, with the same embarrassed tone of voice his former friend was using.  
"A man." huffed the nation. "Besides, don't pretend that you're an angel, Switzerland. You _must_ have desired another country before."  
Switzerland narrowed his eyes and started tugging Lichtenstein away by the hand.  
"Never." he spat furiously, marching off.  
However, he turn his head one last time to glare at Austria, his green eyes lingering on the other man's blue ones for a few seconds before he disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

"I have never seen all these countries this excited before." smiled Bulgaria, who could hardly spot Germany house because of the sheer number of people present.  
"I find that amusing." smirked Romania. "This event is supposed to be intense and fueled with anger from being constantly molested by France, but it seems as if people are treating this like a party."  
"I know right?" laughed the Bulgarian. "I wouldn't be surprised if some people brought booze."

Right on cue, Australia and New-Zealand showed up holding ten eight-packs of beer. Each.  
"Good 'ay mates! We aren't late, are we? What did we miss?" asked Australia.  
"Nothing. We've just all gathered here." smiled Romania. "Where were you guys?"  
"Oh. We just stopped to pick up some beer on the way here. You wouldn't believe the number of choices they have!" laughed New-Zealand, chucking the other two nations a can.  
"Cheers!" replied the two Europeans, taking a swig of their drinks.

"And here you go, madams!" Australia handed the two female nations beside him some alcohol.  
"Thank you." grinned Seychelles. "I can't believe people are enjoying the idea of beating France up so much."  
"Well, aren't you here?" the Australian raised a brow.  
"Oh, yes. You can't imagine the number of times his hands have been groping at my skirt. Scandalous. But he isn't always that bad. He has a few, fleeting moments when he reveals his redeeming traits. France can really be a nice guy. He just has non-existing self-control" the island girl shook her head."Monaco, are you OK?"  
The other girl stood there, awkwardly sipping at her beer, a first aid kit in the other hand.  
"Sure. After I receive that invitation, I had to come to make sure nobody ended up going overboard and using nuclear weapons or something. I just hope that France's injuries aren't going to be too severe. There are only so many rolls of bandages in this box." she sighed. "Trust that man to end up in so much trouble. I sometimes wonder if he is mentally challenged. Or maybe he is just really, really misunderstood and loving." Monaco sniggered. "I wouldn't bet on that, though."

So, in other words, literally everyone was here.  
Every European, Asian, African, American and Oceanic country was present. Somehow, even Antarctica had managed to make it to Germany. Apparently, everyone had either something against France or a love for parties.  
Sealand had invited the rest of the micro-nations, so the tiny countries showed up and joined him.  
Last but not least, police cars, a Russian and Danish citizen who's cars France stole, the Austrian parents of the fat kid he had shoved off the skateboard, the father of the kid who's bike he had stolen and a bunch of traumatized, furious Asians, hoping to teach that rude Frenchman a lesson on streaking in public, were all gathered on Germany's property.  
The civilians were indeed very curious as to why a person from each nationality of the world was here, in the front yard of a nice old house in Berlin, arguing with each, smiling, laughing and drinking themselves silly.

* * *

France whistled.  
"I don't remember molesting this many people..." he muttered, tears welling up in his eyes. "So they just hate me for something else. Génial. Fantastique."  
"Ve~! Don't be sad big brother France! _I_ love you!" comforted Italy, pulling France into his arms. The nation happily returned the man's hug.  
The French was then pulled off of the Italian by a fuming Germany, because the nation had noticed France's hand lingering way to close to Italy's buttocks for his liking. It just annoyed him.

He glared at the nation.  
"I've got my eyes on you, you French."  
"Pardon! Pardon... I've still got my manly needs!" chuckled the man.  
"Oh, I get it! You wish you had a pretty lady! I totally would like a pretty lady too!" chirped Italy.  
"Ah? But weren't you in Germany's bed? Why would you need a pretty lady?" asked France.  
Germany's red face practically glowed in the dark. But Italy's response came before he could get angry.  
"Germany? Oh, he sure is pretty, but he's not a lady!"

For some reason, it hurt the tender deepness of Germany's cement heart to hear that. Maybe he was so used to being Italy's number one, he had forgotten that the man probably preferred women and sex over his bossiness. Maybe he shouldn't have taken all that love and admiration for granted.  
"Is that a problem to you, Italy? Don't you like men?" wondered France, scratching his head. He had always assumed that Italy was blind to gender, like him. Maybe not.  
"Men? Oh, I don't usually go for men. Women are softer, you know? But..." Italy's face suddenly showed a heartbreaking, lonely and almost mature smile that made Germany's heart skip a beat. It just wasn't normal for Italy to be sad. "... I do remember my first love. He was a boy. I haven't seen him in centuries but I still miss him so much. He promised that he would come back for me, so that we could be together. But he never did."

France rubbed his hand on the Italian's back.  
"Italy... You do realize that Holy Roman Empire thought you were a girl, right?" he said bluntly. Oh, he had heard the stories. Hungary had told him that that was the moment where she had realized how cute boy x boy love was, even if Italy had looked like a little doll back them.  
Italy's face suddenly lit up in a panicked realization.  
"What? Holy Rome thought that I was a girl? Oh no..." the man's eyes suddenly teared up. "Does that mean that, if I were to ever see him again, he wouldn't be able to love me anymore because I'm a boy too?"

Holy Rome? So that's who Italy's first love was...  
Germany racked his brains. He didn't remember ever meeting that boy, even if, judging by his age, he would have been born around the same time as him. Actually, he didn't remember much of his past at all. He did remembered the chaos linked to the empire's disappearance though. Prussia was the one who had found him among the mess and had taken him in back then.  
He shook the thoughts away. He had a sad Italian to deal with now.  
"Nein, Italy... I'm sure that your... your _boyfriend_ would still love you." he said through clenched teeth, making a horrendously tortured looking face. It was so strange for him to be speaking of something like this.  
"But why? Why would he Germany?" cried Italy, hugging onto his muscly chest. "I'm not brave or strong or even cute anymore! And I'm not a girl! Actually, I don't see any reason why anyone would like me!"

Germany stayed silent. He couldn't really argue with that. Italy _was_ pretty useless and cowardly.  
_But for some reason_, thought Germany, _I don't hate him. I actually enjoy having this dummkopf as my friend. He fits quite nicely into my arms too._  
"Well, Italy... You do make good pasta. You can paint. You can sing. You are surprisingly kindhearted for a person who was constantly bullied. You do resemble an oversized puppy, so that would make you cute too." blabbered Germany, not too sure where this was coming from. He knew that he should probably shut up before he embarrassed himself even more. But he went on. "And your smile is infectious. You make people around you quite happy. If you aren't messing up their plans or frustrating them, that is."

Italy lifted his head and smiled up at him. His face was a little too close for the blond's comfort zone.  
"Ve~? So Germany would have still loved me if he had been in Holy Rome's position?" asked Italy, his face beaming, lighting up the room like a star. The German wanted to roll his eyes and tell Italy that he was still going to be there for him, even if he wasn't Holy Rome. And he wasn't going to leave Italy alone like that boy had. Ever. He liked being with the happy man...  
Besides, who knew what troubles the Italian would get into without him around caring for him. Not that he cared that much! It was just... teamwork... or something.  
"I... I guess, ja. So I'm sure that that boyfriend of yours would still love you. Even if he saw how pathetic you are now."

France shook his head in frustration. He was thoroughly enjoying seeing the German struggling in this uncomfortable position and making such sweet efforts to be supportive.  
But damn, Germany sucked at comforting. To the French's surprise, however, Italy hugged Germany tighter instead of crying.  
"Yay~! That's happy~!" giggled Italy, in a voice so girly and joyful that he sounded like his old, Chibitalia self. Germany looked confused for a moment. He looked as if he were trying to remember something, but then he shrugged it off as a déjà vu.  
Throughout his whole speech, however, he was expecting Italy to get another message behind his words. Maybe a meaning he himself wasn't completely understanding.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**notes:**  
**Génial – great (French)**  
**Fantastique – fantastic (French)**  
**Pardon – Sorry (French)**  
**Ve~! - Italy's weird vocal tick**

**dummkopf – idiot (German)  
Yay~! That's happy~! - Chibitalia says that to Holy Rome at some point  
déjà vu – the 'OMG I've seen this before!' feeling. Translate from French: 'Already seen'. Apparently, a theory is that these happen when an image you see with your eyes is sent down the 'memory' tube of the brain instead of the 'present sight' tube. One thing for sure, it's super creepy.**

**So... Hope you enjoyed it. Read, review, and-a love!**  
**GerIta (and Bulmania/Rolgaria) FTW right? I totally support the Holy Rome = Germany theory. Cuteness. Overload.**  
**This isn't set after the Buon San Valentino chapters (the ones where Germany tries to date Italy and kind of figures out he is Chibitalia) because I want to see how that ends before I go ahead and invent something. I did use Germany's personality from those strips to make it seem more realistic though.**  
**Kiss kiss, lalala bye bye!**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (so. Many. Exams. Next. Week. Eff. My. Teachers.)**


	12. There Are Two Fatasses In My House

**Finished my History-Geography-Civics brevet exam (the equivalent of GCSE for French people)! *seizures*  
One down, three more to go! I promise, once I finish, I'll finish this story, update 'And Now I'm Stuck Here With You' and write a chapter for 'The Battle Plan'.  
I studied for 13 hours straight only yesterday! That's coming from a procrastinating, lazy nerd... So, in other words, I was pretty occupied all week. And now I've got to work on my French, Maths and English exam (which I find relatively easier).  
So, on with the story. Enjoy!**

* * *

France shook his head in frustration. He was thoroughly enjoying seeing the German struggling in this uncomfortable position and making such sweet efforts to be supportive.  
But damn, Germany sucked at comforting. To the French's surprise, however, Italy hugged Germany tighter instead of crying.  
"Yay~! That's happy~!" giggled Italy, in a voice so girly and joyful that he sounded like his old, Chibitalia self. Germany looked confused for a moment. He looked as if he were trying to remember something, but then he shrugged it off as a déjà vu.  
Throughout his whole speech, however, he was expecting Italy to get another message behind his words. Maybe a meaning he himself wasn't completely understanding.

* * *

Italy might have been the densest moron on the planet (along with Spain) and Germany was probably eyes deep in denial (though he was so freaking sexy with bed hair), but France was a professional when it came to this particular topic. He could see the signs.  
"Ah... l'amour..." he sighed, eyes watering at the display (it had nothing to do with the fact that people were starting to drum madly on Germany's front door). "So, I hope that you'll be letting me stay with you, Germany? I know that it's my fault and that I did enter your bedroom without permission, but I really don't want my gorgeous face to be messed up."  
The German hastily let go of Italy. Way to ruin the moment, France.

The taller blond turned towards the man, wishing his blush away. He really couldn't handle having people that physically close to him.  
He looked once more out of the peephole, taking in the crazy mob stamping his precious flowerbeds. Then, Belarus's crazy eyes suddenly appeared behind the glass. He clenched his teeth to prevent himself from shrieking like a pussy. He slowly backed away, clearing his throat. Like a man.  
"Well...We have been getting along pretty well lately... But I do have many personal issues against you... However, you don't deserve that much pain." finally sighed the German.  
"Yeah! It sucks to have people pick on you!" called out Italy, back to his normal, happy Italian self.  
"So this means that...?" France's eyes unleashed the puppy dog look.  
Germany cringed, but managed to force the next sentence out of his mouth.  
"M-Make your self at h-home."  
It nearly caused him physical pain to knowingly allow France to stay in his house.

"Merci beaucoup, Allemagne!" beamed the French, blue eyes shining.  
"Yay! We have more company Germany!" laughed Italy. "I'll go make pasta to celebrate! I'm hungry!"  
"Italy! You can't just eat a meal in the middle of the night!" shouted Germany, but it was too late. The shorter boy hopped away.  
Suddenly, France grabbed his arm.  
"Wait! Germany, I forgot to tell you..."

He was cut off by a scream of sheer horror coming from the kitchen.  
"ITALY!" shouted Germany in panic, rushing to protect his friend from whatever demon/monster/evil spirit/pervert/murderer had showed up in his house. France joined him. "WHAT'S WRONG?"  
"Ve~... No more food!" cried the Italian, eyes tearing up. He slumped onto the table in defeat.  
"DON'T SHOUT FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS!" shouted Germany, before calming his nerves. Relief coursed through him to know that Italy was alright. Then he looked through his fridge.  
"How weird..." he muttered. "How can it be completely empty? I restocked just yesterday!"

He turned when France cleared his throat and grinned sheepishly.  
"I wanted to tell you... When being chased across Europe for days, I didn't have a single opportunity to eat, apart from one of Britain's scones, which I would rather die than consume. So, when I sneaked into you home, the first thing I did was to completely clear out your fridge. Sorry."  
Germany's mouth popped open.  
"How... How? I bought over a fifty wursts! And I had four packs of pasta so that I could feed Italy! Not to mention tomatoes, steak ('cause I'm a man), minced meat, potatoes, cheese, three dozen eggs and a whole chicken!"  
France patted his stomach.  
"I was hungry... I made a gigantic omelet!"  
Germany still couldn't believe this.  
"How the Holy Führer do you fit a whole chicken and that much pasta and sausages into an omelet? How can you eat all of that?"

France shrugged.  
"As I said, it was one huge omelet. I had to mix all the ingredients into about twenty salad bowls. I was so quiet that you didn't even hear me. Don't worry, I did all the dishes afterward!" He flashed Germany his shiny smile. "And I'm French, so I can eat more than a pigsty without getting fat! As long as I work out..."  
Italy's sobs got louder.  
"Pastaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." he moaned, turning his red eyes to his friend. "Germanyyyyyyy... I'm. Hungry."

The muscly blond took a deep, shaky breath. So... he was imprisoned by a mob in his own house with two fat-asses as company.  
"Oh, and I drank the last can of beer. Sorry."  
Must. Find. Happy. Place.  
"There is no more pastaaaaaaaaaa!"  
Find... Happy... Place...  
"It wasn't so good. French wine is better."  
Happy... Place...  
"Germanyyyyyyyyyy! What are we going to do if we don't have pastaaaaaa?"  
Happy...

He sighed.  
"What more can we do, Italy? I'll get more food tomorrow. Let's just go back to bed."  
He was far too tired to get into a stomp-like-a-gorilla-smashing-shit rage, no matter how much he wanted to punch the two nations. No wonder all the countries couldn't stand France, with his superior, snobbish attitude, frustrating politicians and terrifying appetite. And Italy... It took all of his patience, but, somehow, he liked him. A little. Just a little.

He walked to a cabinet, gave France sheets and a new toothbrush.  
"Guest bedroom all the way down the hall. Bathroom first door to the left." he muttered, dragging Italy to bed with him. He switched off the light and they slipped under his covers.  
"Goodnight again Germany. Hopefully the mob will now quiet down enough for us to get some sleep. They won't smash you door in, right? Right?"  
"G'night Italy. No, if they did that, it would cause s'vere political problems. Only France seems to be able to get away w'th it..." slurred Germany, starting to realize how exhausted he was. His eyes slipped shut. So. tired. "At least they've stopped ringing the doorb'll."  
He hummed in content. Time for wonderful sleep.

Suddenly, he felt a third weight sink into his bed. He frowned.

* * *

**Vocab:  
L'Amour – love  
Merci beaucoup, Allemagne – Thank you very much, Germany!**

**History lesson (because Hetalia has helped me through H-G exams in a way that only Hetalians can imagine, so I will share some knowledge too):**  
**1951: creation of the CECA treaty, where France and Germany puts their iron production in common to make war impossible.**  
**1963: Treaty of Elysée, beginning of joint projects between France and Germany.**  
**So... I would say that the bosses made these two countries put up with each other. Old grudges (*cough* WW1 *cough* WW2*cough*everythingbefore) die hard though.**

**So, hoped you liked it. Around two more chapters left, I think. Almost done :)**  
**Read, review, looooooooove!**  
**See you next time, la la la, kiss kiss, bye bye!**  
**XOXO~~~ HimekoUchia (I'm serious. I would never have managed to learn my lessons without scribblings Hetalia comics on my revision notes)**


	13. There Is A France In My Bed

**French and math exams finished! That means that I'm on holiday now (oh, right, an English exam tomorrow. Meh. I find writing narrative essays actually kind of fun).  
Thanks for your reviews!  
Now, without further delay!**

* * *

He walked to a cabinet, gave France sheets and a new toothbrush.  
"Guest bedroom all the way down the hall. Bathroom first door to the left." he muttered, dragging Italy to bed with him. He switched off the light and they slipped under his covers.  
"Goodnight again Germany. Hopefully the mob will now quiet down enough for us to get some sleep. They won't smash you door in, right? Right?"  
"G'night Italy. No, if they did that, it would cause s'vere political problems. Only France seems to be able to get away w'th it..." slurred Germany, starting to realize how exhausted he was. His eyes slipped shut. So. tired. "At least they've stopped ringing the doorb'll."  
He hummed in content. Time for wonderful sleep.

Suddenly, he felt a third weight sink into his bed. He frowned.

* * *

"France..." he growled through clenched teeth, forcing his eyes open. "Didn't you learn anything fr'm this experience?"  
"Don't be too affectionate around people with rakes shoved up their ass." answered France.  
"Correct. Then why are you here?" he seethed.  
"I'm not used to being in bed alone." came the muttered reply.  
"Well, I think that it's highly inappropriate for grown men to share a bed." snapped Germany.  
"Italy sleeps with you. Is there a... _reason _that you always let him in but not me?" asked France with fake innocence. He was going to get this out of Germany no matter what.

"He's... different."  
"How so?" France continued to poke into the German's business.  
"I'm different? Does that mean that I am a freak? Germany, do you think that I am a freak?" cried Italy.  
The muscly man cursed. He forgot that the Italian was still awake.  
"Nein! I didn't mean it that way! I just meant that... I don't usually let people in my bed but, if you want to sleep with me so much, I could make an exception for you! B-Because we're... friends." he justified hastily.

"Hon hon... Germany, admit it. Just admit it. It's so obvious! " chuckled France, knowing that he was risking severe pain, but couldn't help playing cupid. "You even get jealous really easily! That, mon ami, is a true sign of l-..."  
"France." hissed Germany, blushing red against his wishes. "Don't talk about such ridiculous things, especially when we should be sleeping! You're disturbing Italy too! The door. Now."

The German then mentally listed all the reasons he really hated France. Just the recent ones.  
So... France escaped a furious mob by landing a jet stolen from Switzerland in his country without permission. He sneaked into his house. Ate all his food. Hid under his bed. Went through his personal stash of porn. Caused the whole world to camp outside in his front yard. Stomping his flowerbeds. Making a mess of his neat, organized garden.  
Then, the worst thing, he was implying to Italy that he, Germany, was in love with him! Ridiculous. Stupid. He... He was so not in love with Italy. Italy was sweet, but he was dumb, weak, cowardly. True, he was attractive enough to be a magnet for other, evil nations like France. Germany was simply protective over his ally.  
He most definitely did not get jealous.  
He felt France jump up on the bed.  
"Honhonhonhon! Threesome! Italy's ass is mine! Mine!"

"THAT'S IT!"  
That was the last straw. For so long, he had been a perfect citizen, friend, ally. But this was his limit.  
ACTIVATE GERMAN GODZILLA MODE! Germany angry! Germany smash!  
Germany kicked France off his bed with all the strength he could muster. The poor man went right through the door.  
"FRAAANNNCCCEEE!" he bellowed. "YOU PERVERTED BASTARD!"  
Italy meeped besides him, waving a white flag.  
Angry Germany was positively terrifying.

The sexy man hulk jumped out of his bed, stormed out of his room and grabbed the Frenchman by his ugly, plain coat. France smiled as innocently as he could.  
"It... It was only a joke..."  
"LEAVE ITALY ALONE!" hollered Germany, dragging the French through the hallway until he reached his front door. "YOU AREN'T ALLOWED TO TOUCH HIM!"  
"I'm sorry! Please don't eat me!" cried France, trying frantically to remember when was the last time he saw Germany so pissed. He scrambled for the front door. Screw this. Nothing could possibly be worse that an angry German!  
The other man snorted, opened his front door and pushed France outside, into the waiting mob.  
The crowd whooped and cheered so loudly that it could be heard in China.  
"Auf Widersehen." said Germany, walking onto his front porch and wiping his hands. Italy joined him. They both watched as the whole world stormed over France like a pack of rabid zombies, clawing away at the man.

"Big brother France did mention once that his greatest dream was to be touched by every country in the world." chuckled the Italian, tilting his head to the side. "The sound of the crowd cheering as one is so nice!"  
A moment of awkward silence reigned between the two men.  
"Germany... What was France going to say just now?" he eventually asked.  
Germany huffed and didn't make eye contact with Italy.  
"N-Nothing. Don't think about it, ja?" he said shakily, embarrassed to say the least. Italy simply smiled like an idiot and nodded, but Germany could still see the thoughtful look in the smaller man's eyes.

France was chucked around like a hot potato so that everyone could have a go at him. It almost looked as if he was crowd surfing. Then, they all huddled into a circle to smack the perverted nation.  
"Ve~! Germany! Think about it! The whole world is gathered in your front yard! We are all united right now!"  
The German did think about. He sniffed and brushed away the single tear in his eye.  
"So beautiful..." he sighed, a little choked up in emotion. He put an arm around Italy's shoulders.

Then, Italy dragged Germany into the crowd, blending into the happy circle called the Earth.

* * *

**Vocab:  
****mon ami – my friend (French)  
Auf Widersehen – farewell (German)**

**BWAHAHAH I'm such a bitch. Don't worry, there is ONE MORE CHAPTER. An epilogue. It will be quite long compared to the usual chapter length. Don't hate me for this tragic ending, it needs to be this way to set the next chapter.**  
**I feel a little terrible. I truly love France (but that's what you get when you try to jump Italy in front of Germany). I think he's awesome (and, quite frankly, he resembles me and I'm no hypocrite), especially in this chapter. So the next chapter France gets a little love :)**  
**So... hope you liked the cheesy-ass ending! Who got the Marukaite reference? Hope you did. It was kind of obvious.  
Two weeks ago, I was eating dinner with a bunch of French people who were all chatting loudly and eating until the restaurant closed. At the table, there was one awkward, silent, creepily intimidating guy with slicked back blond hair. It took me a couple hours to realize that he was German. Then it all made sense :)**  
**Review if you want to (please)!**  
**Baaeeeeeyyy! Kisses, bises, besos, kisu!**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia**


	14. Epilogue: There Is A Spy Under Your Bed

**I'm glad to know that you guys liked the cheesy ending (and all the GerIta... I like it too)! I felt really bad for France after writing that chapter, so I gave him a little epilogue where we see his more awesome side! Plus, I had this idea, and it seemed to freaking epic to pass off, so I had to write it! You'll get it when you get there XD!  
So, for the last time, accents, don't own, enjooooy (said like France in Paint it White)!**

* * *

"Look on the bright side! At least you have free healthcare..." tried Canada, eying France who was currently sprawled on his bed in a full body cast. It had only seven holes: two for the eyes, one for the mouth, two more for his ears and the last two were for when he needed the bathroom.  
Said man snorted.  
"I can't even move my arms far enough to take care of... business." he sighed. "I still didn't get laid, you know..."

England shook his head exasperatedly.  
"That's all you think about, do you? Even if your state..."  
France grinned, then groaned when it hurt his face.  
"I'm French, non? Well, I am also thinking about how nice it is that all of you came to visit me in my own personal hospital room... Even if you were the ones that put me here in the first place."

"Except for Monaco and I." mumbled Canada. "We didn't mob you."  
"Ah, yes. Glad to know that my nation family cares for me to some extent." smiled France. "Though Seychelles and America weren't so kind."  
"Hey!" growled the Island girl, then she softened when she saw how pitiful the man looked . "If you didn't grope me so much I wouldn't have been so angry. I hope you aren't in _too_ much pain."  
"I'll live." smiled the French. "As long as you keep visiting me."  
"Yo! Frenchy! As the hero, I have to protect the world from perverts and make sure my weapons are functional! Nothing personal, 'kay?" laughed America, giving the man a pat on the back.

Monaco shoved him away.  
"Don't touch him you moron! You'll hurt him!" she sighed.  
Canada also stood up protectively.  
"Hey, America! Be gentle with France, eh? You hozers have already had a go at him, so let him be now, OK?" he demanded softly, before making sure that his father figure was comfortable.

England was always shell-shocked at how caring and delicate man was.  
He was raised by France damn it! This must mean that... That frog was actually a very sweet dad. That he had actually done something right.  
England couldn't imagine it. He could only see the French as a sex crazy monster.  
With, apparently, a very polite, well raised son.  
Compared to America... Canada was such an angel.  
Maybe... it would have been a good idea to raise the two American nations together with France.  
Seeing the man now, exchanging a few words of French with his former colony...

England couldn't help smiling. They would have made a pretty happy family. One of their fathers would have been a great cook with beautiful art and the other one would have taught them how to be proper gentleman. Plus, he was sure that having France as a lover would never leave him unsatisfied.  
Wait, what was he thinking? Of course, he had just been thinking hypothetically.  
But France was still France dammit! His perverted, froggy, stinky rival! It must just be the pity...  
He shook his head in horror and continued to watch the scene in front of his with his lips in a tight line.

One thing was for sure... He absolutely couldn't see the resemblance between France and Canada.  
None at all.  
How were they even related?

"Well..." Monaco cleared her throat. "You've also gotten quite a lot of gifts. How kind of them, especially since you did deserve you beating."  
It was true that the room was actually flooded with wrapped boxes and ribbons.  
Seychelles grabbed the nearest present and looked at the card.  
"Pasta and beer. This one is from Italy and Germany. Italy sends his love. Germany says that he apologizes for losing his temper and that he hopes you will have a quick recovery... He also tells you to back off of Italy, though."  
France chuckled softly.  
"He doesn't need to fear for that. I was really just playing with him. I wouldn't touch Italy, because I, as the country of love, wouldn't ruin a perfect match. I just like to create jealousy and encourage them to make a move."

"Sure you do. Bad news, though, because of the state of your economy, I highly doubt you'll be recovering soon." snorted Monaco, taking the next gift. "Oh, this one is from Russia. He sends you lots of love and kisses and hopes you never touch his sister again. Ah, vodka. How kind of him."  
She opened the bottle and smelled the content. She gagged.  
"Nope, as I suspected, it's arsenic. Belarus sent you a death threat. And Norway sent you a foam finger that's flipping you off."

Every country had sent something. Some gifts were cool (The Asians had sent him enough food to survive the hospital). Some... not so much.  
"Well... I'm going to go home now." said Seychelles, glancing at the clock. "I've got business."  
"I'll leave too. Get better, France." huffed Monaco, giving the man a soft pat on the cheek. "Ne fais plus de conneries, ein?"

The two ladies exited, leaving England, America and France behind.  
Oh, and Canada.  
"Did anyone else send me something that is supposed to be edible or drinkable but is actually dangerous? Just to be sure I don't get sick and have an embarrassing accident in front of my cute nurse?" asked France, trying to scan the room, which was difficult because he could only move his eyes.  
"Um, yep. I'm pretty sure Romano sent you a wine bottle filled with laxative." grinned America, checking the content of the object under his hand. "Yup. Laxative. Don't drink it."  
"Thanks America. You should have been my colony instead of Eyebrow's. Then you and Canada could have been raised as my two little brothers or sons, together." smiled France.

"Hey!" snapped England. "No one wants to hear your bloody opinion!"  
"Oh, I'm sorry Britain." smirked France. "You could have joined me and raised them together. I wouldn't have minded."  
The Brit shivered. It's like he could read his mind or something. However, since he was the United-bloody-Kingdom, he had to object.  
"Well, I would have minded! That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard! You can die for all I care! I called all the nations to beat you up so that I could see you go down, not to hear you criticize my nation-raising skills! Besides, nobody cares about you anyway, you wanker! "

France huffed and wished that he could get out of this bed to smack the Brit into next week. Unfortunately, he was in quite a lot of pain and England's comments didn't make him feel any better.  
America rolled his eyes and stood up.  
"Don't worry, French-toast, that's a lie." he smiled and placed a hand on his former boss's shoulder. "Iggy cares about you or he wouldn't be here, would he?"  
England spat a string of curses, ignoring France and Canada's soft laughs in favor of trying to punch the American.  
However, he was too quick and managed to slip out of the door and shut it behind him, with a last:  
"Ahahahahah! I'm the Hero! Bye losers!" echoing behind him.

Britain huffed and tried to open the door. He felt his face go pale when he heard a click.  
"Which BLOODY idiot has doors that lock from the outside?" he croaked.  
"Well, back in the old days, I would have Spain or Prussia lock the doors when I was inside, in case... ah... my _prey_ felt like escaping." France smirked.  
England threw himself against the door.  
"AMERICA HELP! He's gonna rape me!" he cried. However, the hero was long gone.  
Canada pulled him away from the door.  
"He just joking, eh." he chuckled quietly. Britain was amusingly gullible. "This used to be a huge storage room, but France turned it into another guestroom."

"Of course, you moronic Brit." snorted France. "I don't want the Egyptian cotton bedsheets in my room to suffer with me, so I'd rather just be here. Cozier and closer to the bathroom too."

England relaxed.  
"Oh." he cleared his throat. "WELL, it wasn't a funny joke. How are we even going to get out later?"

"You can call my cute little nurse to open the door for us." France pointed out. "Leaving so soon?"  
The Brit huffed and plonked back down onto his chair.

"I'll stay a bit longer." then he turned to glare at France. "B-Because I bloody ENJOY seeing you miserable!"

"Bien sur, bien sur, Angleterre..." hummed the French. "So many stuck people in this world, I see, who just don't realize that it is pointless to fight against the power of loooove... Talking about that, how are Germany and Italy doing?"  
Canada placed his elbows on the side of the armchair, leaning forward.  
"Um... Little progress on their part. Germany is still in denial and Italy is... slow to catch hints. He is acting even kinder around Germany, though, if that's even possible. They're cute to watch, really." smiled the Canadian.

"Ah, they have eternity to figure it out." said France. England was currently darting his eyes from the French to the Canadian in confusion. "What about Spain and Romano? Spain is such a cute idiot and Romano is such a delicious jackass..."  
"Those two are even worse. Romano acts tough but can not take his eyes off of Spain." sighed Canada. "Give them time. One of them with act eventually, eh?"  
"I sure hope so. Mon dieu, this world is filled with people who are so afraid! No wonder they get so defensive when I try to share my love..." grumbled France.

"You don't share love. You share sex. Not the same thing, ho." spat England.  
France laughed softly.  
"That's true. But the two can also be combined and that, Britain, is truly the best, isn't it?" France then snapped his eyes back to his former colony. "Not that you would know, you black sheep of Europe."  
Before England could punch France, Canada intervened.  
"I... I also kept an eye on the Nordics, because you mentioned the sexual tension between the countries?"

France and England both turned to look at him.  
"Ah, oui... What did you learn?"  
"I told you the problem Sweden had, eh? Denmark kept trying to embarrass him in front of Finland and Sealand..." started Canada.  
"Yes? Tell me the juicy details!" France's grin widened despite his state.  
"When they went back to their homes... well... Norway... Let's say that the hospital of Copenhagen had to wash the salt and vinegar out of the thousands of paper cuts that were on Denmark's body." winced the usually invisible nation. The mummified French laughed, trying to ignore the pain throbbing through his body.  
"I knew that those two were into that type of play! Honhon! So, what about Sweden and Finland? I want to knooooow!"

Canada shuffled and bent closer to whisper.  
"A few nights ago, Finland sent Sealand over to one of the other micro-nation's house for a sleepover. Then he... confronted Sweden."  
"And?" France was practically dying of curiosity.  
"Finland sort of... _jumped_ Sweden. Poor guy was so shocked, I thought he was going to pass out. However, he snapped out of it, then the two had a nice, long night..." Canada chuckled. "Judging by the noises Sweden was making, I presume that real-life-Finland is even better in bed than dirty-dream-Finland."

"He got laid? Finally!" beamed France. "Nice spying, Canada, I raised you right! So handsome too... You make me proud!"  
The Canadian them proceeded to gently high-five the French's hand without hurting him.  
England twitched in his seat.  
So... This was how Canada and France were alike...  
"Bloody hell! I would expect this form France, but not from you!" he stood up in horror. "What do you have to say for yourself? I'm so disappointed in you, Canada!"  
"I don't maple-leafing care. Half the time, you can't even tell me apart from America and that really distresses me! I'm one of the biggest countries in the world. I even sided with you in numerous wars!" sighed the blond, crossing his arms.

England gulped.  
"I... I apologize for making that mistake. Don't worry, I'll never make it again..."  
..._because I just realized how much more you resemble France than you resemble America_, thought the Brit. "B-Besides! How could you have even found out that stuff Sweden and Finland? Didn't they make sure that they were alone?" he asked.

Canada arched an eyebrow and exchanged a knowing look with France.  
"I was under their bed, of course. The whole time. It's like free live porn, eh."  
England started backing up, a chill filling his gut.  
"You... You what? No... There is no way that you could be exactly like that _wanker_!" gasped Britain, pointing an accusative finger at France, who just smiled back innocently.

Canada checked for dirt under his finger nails.  
"Oh, no, I'm not exactly like France, eh? I also happen to be invisible half of the time, so that gives me a few more advantages." he laughed. "You cannot imagine how useful it can be. For all you know, England, I could be watching you sleep at night."  
Britain was shaking in fear.  
"B-But you don't... right?" he squeaked.  
Canada grinned, flashing off his shiny white teeth.  
"Do I? Hey, France..." Canada leaned over to smirk at his former boss. "Did you know that Sweden isn't the only one dreaming about another nation, eh? England here happens to have many loud, dirty dreams. He has nice boxers too."  
He turned to face the Brit.  
"Also, he sleep talks a lot. According to him, he loves being spanked and tied up with a belt. By you, France... Didn't I tell you that British people had strange kinks too?"

England shrieked in sheer terror, threw himself against the locked door and started frantically kicking it. He clawed at it like an animal and banged his red face against it.  
He died a little inside every time one of France or Canada's laughs echoed around the room.  
"HELP! BLOODY HELL, SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF HERE! AMERICA! DON'T LEAVE ME IN HERE WITH THOSE TWOOOOOO!"

* * *

**END, FIN**

**First Hetalia fic... over! Now I can go back to writing Naruto ones until I get more ideas.**  
**For the last time... Vocab!**

**Ne fais plus de conneries, ein? - No more bullshit, eh?**  
**Bien sur, bien sur, Angleterre... - Of course, of course, England...**  
**Fin – end (duh duh duh)**

***Snif* I'm kinda sad it's over. Hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**  
**Thank you for all your nice comments and thanks to PaperDream for all the threats for not updating my stories (look who's talking).**  
**I love Perverted!Canada. If you think about it, since France did raise him... also, I checked one of those sex survey things (the one Greece and Japan talk about in the strip where they sleep together) and turns out Canadian people now how to have their fun too, if you know what I mean (so, hopefully, his OOCness is justified). Anyways, England deserves it for what he did to France.**  
**So, a big thanks to all my reviewers and alerters and favoriters and readers! I'm glad I could contribute to your Hetalia fandom!**  
**Love, kiss, la la la, He~talia!**  
**XOXO ~~~ HimekoUchia (now, on to my Naruto stories XD)**


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